Cold Comfort (33 page)

"Thank you."
At last, the mysterious Sandra.
Claire felt in her heart the answer lay with this woman. If it didn't, where would they turn next? Could she confront Burley and Jennings directly? If only she knew the
why
, she might risk it.

"Yes, I see," the man was saying. "This is Ronald Darwin, a former colleague. Is there some way I can reach her?"

Where was she? Tears came to Claire's eyes. Had they lost her?

Riley squeezed her hand, whispering, "Hold on. We'll find her."

"Yes," Darwin said. He took a pencil from a leather holder and wrote a number on a pad. "Thank you."

Claire, unable to wait, crossed the room to look over his shoulder. He had written a phone number. No address. How long would it take them to find her? Darwin hung up the phone, and the feeling of urgency came over her again.

"She's at work."

Hope soared again. Her head spun. She needed to get off this manic trapeze that swung her violently back and forth. She needed to sit down.

Darwin's voice penetrated the emotional miasma surrounding her. "Sandra Krakowski, please." He was on the phone again.

After a short conversation, he turned to Riley. "She'll meet you at six, after she leaves her office."

Before Riley could respond, Claire clutched Darwin's sleeve. "That's
hours
from now. Could she make it lunch? How long would it take us to get there?"

Darwin explained to Sandra and handed the phone to Riley. Awkwardly, he patted Claire's hand. "He'll know where and when you can get there. Let them make the arrangements. When she sees you, how much you resemble Caroline, I'm sure she'll tell you all she can."

Claire nodded mutely, listening to Riley warn Sandra not to tell anyone about their conversation. "It could be dangerous for you and for Claire." He replaced the receiver. "She'll meet us for lunch. We need to get going."

They hastened to leave, and Claire stopped to give the old man a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you. You'll never know how much this means to me."

Darwin smiled at her, albeit stiffly, as if the muscles in his face were unused to such demands.

Riley handed him a card and shook his hand. "Sir, thank you for your help. If you think of anything else, please call me. And remember, this could be dangerous for you too. Be careful." He stepped in front of Claire and Darwin and opened the door. "Both of you, stay out of sight. Claire, wait inside until I tell you. We're on their turf, and by now they probably know we're in town."

Claire followed him out. She'd waited long enough.

Chapter 22

Claire checked the diners at each table she passed on the way back from the restroom. No one paid any attention to her or matched Sandra Krakowski's description. Wearily, she rubbed her forehead. The answer, so close, had slipped away again. She returned to their booth and slid in beside Riley. "There's no one here wearing a red suit." She wanted to cry, kick the empty seat across from her, but she knew it wouldn't help. Ruthlessly, she suppressed the urge and controlled herself. "The restroom's empty, and I checked the booths at the back."

Riley scanned the crowded room once more. "She didn't show, and there's no message for us. It's thirty minutes past the time we said. We've waited longer than we should have already. I think we should go to her office," he said, rising from his seat.

Disappointment threatened to choke her. She swallowed the knot in her throat and lifted her chin while Riley held her coat. She slipped into it and closed it snugly around her.

"Come on, Claire." He squeezed her hand. "We'll find the answers. Don't give up now."

Handing the waitress a healthy tip, he apologized to her for changing their minds, and they left. "Stay between me and the buildings. Be ready. I don't like this."

At Sandra's office building, the receptionist said, "She left about an hour ago. She got a phone call and left right away. She was very upset, but she didn't explain, just said she had to leave."

Claire thanked her, and they left the office.

Riley stopped in the hallway and called Will. "Yeah, I think you should have someone check her home, make sure she and the husband are all right. He's retired. If they're there, it might be wise to assign them some protection." He listened, then said, "No. I won't take Claire until I know what's going on. We'll come to the office. Call me when you find out about Krakowski. I'll call Darwin, send him to the drop spot. Cover him, too."

He stopped in the lobby and punched in Ronald Darwin's phone number. Claire stood beside him, grim-faced, studying the passersby.

"Darwin, it's Ben Riley. Are you all right?"

Claire's heart thumped painfully as Dr. Clary came to mind. She didn't want to think of Darwin in the hands of someone like Joey Fortunato, or even worse, this Frank Stahl Mary had seen
—
the one with the knife.

"Good." He nodded and gave Claire a sober thumbs up. "Sir, this is important. Sandra Krakowski is missing. Get out of your house now. Stay away from the front windows. Call a cab to meet you on the next street over. Go out the back door.
Do it now
." He gave Darwin an address and told him Will Porter would be waiting for him. "We're on our way back." He hung up and turned to Claire.

"But what about Sandra?" What did "missing" imply? Claire wondered. Could she have run, leaving her husband behind? Or had the woman been taken against her will? These people were ruthless, Claire knew. Nausea threatened to overwhelm her. She stopped and leaned against the wall of a building, breathing in the cold air.

"Are you okay? Hold on, Claire." Riley turned, shielding her from the street, and slid his hand under her hair, caressed her neck with warm fingers. "She may be all right. Wait till we hear from Will. Someone will be checking her house soon, and he'll let us know what they find."

"Yes, let's go." She straightened, pulling herself together.

"Okay." Riley brushed her cheek with his fingertips, then gripped her hand, and took off at a fast pace. "I'm taking you to our office in Arlington."

His sense of urgency was contagious. "What do you think happened to her?" She could hardly keep up with his long strides, hurried along beside him, skipping a step. "Can we either slow down or go ahead and run?"

"Sorry." He slowed immediately. "My guess is they found out about her, maybe from Darwin's questions, and got to her husband. They wouldn't take her out of a busy office, so they'd threaten him to make her return home."

"How terrible. What kind of people are these?" She didn't expect an answer
—
she already knew. "It's so frustrating, not being able to figure out why they're doing this. Would either political party really be that concerned about a possible candidate?"

"Anything's possible if someone would benefit from having Burley or Jennings in a position of power, but it still seems weak." They reached the car, and Riley told her to stand back while he checked it. "I don't think anyone knows where we are
—
just being careful. If anything, Darwin's questions alerted them."

She mulled over Riley's instructions to Mr. Darwin, hoping the man had listened and was safely away from his house, out of reach of those monsters. "What's a 'drop spot'?"

"Just a place where we meet, sometimes leave things. It's to avoid giving out the office address when we don't have to. Anyone could be listening."

They were halfway back to Washington when Will called. Anxiety ate at Claire, paralyzing her. Was Darwin safe? She held her breath as Riley made a few noncommittal sounds, ended with, "Right. We'll be there soon."

"What is it? What did he find?" She watched his face, seeking some hint.

His dark blue eyes focused on the traffic surrounding them, alert for problems. "The Krakowskis have gone. There's nothing to indicate where they went, but they left in a hurry. A neighbor told Will's man they called to ask her to pick up their mail, said they'd be out of town for a few days."

His grim tone and lack of expression scared her.

"Do you think they've been...hurt?" She hoped not, prayed it was nothing worse.

"Scared is more like it. I doubt if anyone wants to leave a trail of bodies. They want to keep this quiet, so they probably threatened Sandra and her husband and suggested they take a vacation. She won't be talking for a while."

"What do we do now?" A snowflake landed on the windshield and melted, much like her hope for finding answers.

"Let's talk to Darwin again. If he can't help us, we'll go to Jennings since he's here in Washington. Even if it's Burley, Jennings may know something. If we don't get anywhere, we'll go back to Virginia and find Burley."

* * *

When they reached the office, Riley let her out under a protective awning and parked. She waited at the door, and they entered the small building together.

"He's on the second floor," he said. "We'll take the elevator."

Claire read the name on the building directory: "Maleantes and Moore, Security Consultants." She looked up at Riley. "Who are Maleantes and Moore?"

"No one. Will's sense of humor.
Maleante
is Spanish for 'thug,' which a judge called him in his misspent youth." A faint smile touched his lips, softening the features that had been set in such hard lines on the long drive back from Baltimore.

She thought he must be close to Will, care a lot. He belonged to that tight circle of friends. "Thugs and more? And people do business with him?"

"Not many get it. But yes, he has all the business he can handle." He led her into the elevator, his hand on her back.

"Are you part of it?" She knew so little about his work, only that it was dangerous.

"No, it's Will's, but I work with him sometimes."

The elevator barely started before it stopped again. They stepped out into a small hallway with three doors. Riley indicated the middle one.

Inside, Ronald Darwin sat on a leather sofa, a suitcase at his feet. A diminutive woman with hair an impossible shade of red sat behind a large desk, talking to him.

Riley introduced her as Frieda, Will's office manager, and gave her a kiss. "Where's Will?"

"In his office." Frieda nodded in the direction of a closed door.

Riley led Claire into Will's office, closing the door behind them. "I don't want to chance sending Darwin home, not after the Krakowskis' unexpected vacation."

Will shook his head. "No, it's not safe. Darwin saw a car with two men in it cruising his street twice. Probably why he was willing to leave when you called. What are we going to do with him? I can put him in a hotel room. I doubt if they'll trace him, at least not for a while."

"Someone will spot him and word will get out. This might take awhile, and we still don't know who's behind it. I'd rather he stayed somewhere more secure." Riley smiled. "Somewhere less public."

"Oh, no." Will held up his hands in protest. "I can't have him in my apartment."

"That's because Will lives in a box," Riley told Claire. "I think it's to discourage visitors."

"It's an efficiency." Will frowned. "He can't stay with me."

"But you can't let him go home, not after Sandra Krakowski disappeared," Claire said.

"How about Frieda?" Will nodded toward the front office. "She's got room, and no one would connect her with this. But it will cost
—
probably more than a hotel."

"What choice is there?" Riley spread his hands and agreed, accepting the inevitable.

Will pressed a button on his phone. "Frieda, would you come in here for a minute?"

Frieda, appearing even smaller standing up than she did behind the desk, slipped into the room. "What are you trying to pull now, Will Porter?" She frowned at Riley, including him. "Nothing good, I'll wager."

"What would it take for you to let Darwin stay at your place for a couple of days? We'll give you the company credit card for dinner every night he's there." Will laid the card on the desk in front of her.

The tiny red-haired woman gave the card a scornful glance and didn't answer, just stood silent, arms folded across her chest.

Riley took out his wallet and held out a couple of bills. Frieda raised an eyebrow, arms still crossed, peering at Riley over her half-glasses.

"Frieda, you're killing me," Riley said.

The secretary, clearly in control of the situation, turned to the window. "Look, it's snowing again."

Claire watched the exchange with interest. She'd already resigned herself to selling her house to pay for this business
—
Frieda might as well get her share. She doubted if the determined woman reached five feet with her Dr. Scholl's inserts. The two men towered over her, both intimidated.

"There's a sale at Bergdorf's this weekend." She tapped her foot on the floor.

Riley put his cash back in his wallet. "Get out the checkbook."

Will leaned over the desk and started writing. "I'm ahead of you. I knew this was coming."