Paloma: A Laurent & Dove Mystery (30 page)

“It’s a rental.”

“Funny car to be driving for a rental. Must have cost a bundle.”

Paloma’s hands shook. “You’re right, I should have approached you sooner but after time went

by –”

“Why are you here anyway? Did that guy contact you? Was this all a ploy for us to meet?”

“What guy?”

“That Max person.”

Paloma was confused. “You sound like you don’t know him.”

“I don’t.”

“But didn’t you look him up in Buffalo a couple of months ago?”

“Why would I have done that?”

“You only just met him?”

“Never saw him until yesterday. Is he your old boyfriend or something?” 

Paloma blinked hard. Blind-sided again. Damn him. “No, of course not.”

“Yeah, right. If he didn’t set this up, then why are you here?” 

“I wanted to tell him off. He got me thrown out of the hotel. That man gets on my last nerve.”

A small smile crossed Maddie’s lips. “He’s strange.”

Paloma nodded. Finally they had something in common. “Strange is being kind. He’s a madman. So where is he?”

Maddie shrugged. “Not sure.”

“And why are you here?”

“He thinks someone is after me.”

“What! Who?” 

“Natalie, my stepmother. Confidentially, I think the guy’s looped, but if I didn’t agree to his terms he wasn’t going to leave me alone. So I figured what the hey, humor the guy.”

“Your stepmother wants to harm you? But why?”

“He taped a conversation where she told someone to take care of someone else. I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense. I mean Natalie. She’s an idiot. She’s too stupid to figure out how to murder someone.”

Paloma felt sick. The nightmare still wasn’t over. How was this possible? “Do you know anyone by the name of Daisy?”

“Daisy?” She shook her head. “No.”

“What about Tony or Joey Catoni?”

She laughed. “Did you say Tony Catoni? Sounds ridiculous. He should have stuck with Anthony. Never heard of either of them.”  

“How about a Brandon?”

“Brandon? Brandon Sills?”

“Possibly. Is he tall and blond?”

“Oh, yeah. He’s Natalie’s friend.”

Paloma burst from the chair. “We got to leave. C’mon.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Her breath quickened. “Maddie, these people are very bad.” Paloma looked around the hotel room. Her daughter’s clothes were strewn about. “Take what you need or leave it. I have plenty of money. You’ll need a passport –”

Maddie folded her arms. “I’m not leaving.”

“But you don’t understand…” Paloma wanted to explain what had been happening, but there wasn’t time. An open bag with jeans lay on the floor. Paloma reached for it, then began tossing her daughter’s clothes inside.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“We can go anywhere you like,” Paloma said, stuffing the bag. “Europe, Australia, New Zealand.”

“I said I wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Or some island. Bermuda, St. Thomas.”

“You’re not listening to me.”

Paloma’s mind raced. In Boston an acquaintance could help with getting a passport. Maybe they’d then drive to Mexico. They could stay there or move onto Costa Rica, Argentina. She blurted, “Do you speak Spanish?”

Her daughter looked at her with disbelief.    

“Doesn’t matter. You’ll learn.” Paloma glanced around the room. Except for an unmade bed and a stack of magazines, the room was picked up. “I’ll check the bathroom, then we’re off.”

“Lady, you’re already off.”

Paloma stopped cold. What had Maddie called her? Lady? “Honey, I know you may not want to call me Mom, but –”

“I was trying to be nice.”

“Nice?”

She smirked. “Would you rather be called bitch?”

Paloma reared back, stung by her daughters words. There had to be a way of handling this but she didn’t have a clue. “Honey, now you know that’s not a nice thing to say. Let’s just leave. Is there anything I’ve overlooked?”

Maddie sat deeper into the bed and looked over the room. “Nope. Looks like you got everything.”

Paloma picked up her daughter’s bag and slung it onto her shoulder. She then grabbed the handles of her own carry-on. “I want you to know that everything will be fine. Don’t be afraid. We don’t even have to check out. The car’s in the ramp.”

Her daughter made no effort to stand.

“Where would you like to go? Name a place any place.”

“Don’t talk to me like a baby. I’m not a baby.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Like bitch knows best.”

Paloma felt tears building. “Maddie, please don’t use that language.”

“Then don’t manipulate me.”

“Fine. Okay. Now get up. We got to go.”

“Have you heard anything I said? Read my lips. I’m not leaving this room.” She grinned. “But don’t let me stop you.”

The bulky bags weighed Paloma down. She stood stalled, trying to figure out some creative ploy to get Maddie out of the hotel, when a clear knock rapped at the door. 

***

Max leaned toward the door and knocked one more time. “Maddie, it’s me Max.” Nothing. He had left her the key card, so she could lock the door without having to worry that he’d barge in at any time. Now he regretted it. What if she were inside dying? Or worse? He knocked again, this time more loudly, desperately. 

Finally, the latch clicked. 

“You look frazzled,” she said, opening the door wider.

“I feel better now.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t get too comfortable.”

Max smiled nervously. He had miles to go before getting comfortable. How the hell was he going to give her the news about her father?

“Everything okay around here?” he asked.

“Hunky-dory.”

“That’s good.”

She flopped onto the bed. “So, how’d things go?”

His palms felt clammy. “Not so good, I’m afraid.”

Her smile faded. “How so?”

Max settled down next to her and reached for her hand. He sighed deeply. “I let you down.”

A puzzled look crossed her face.  

“But it’s going to be okay,” he said. “We’ll nail’em.”

“Are you thinking they got to my mother?”

He nodded. “Yes, probably.”

A devilish grin spread across her face. “Well, then I got some news for you.” She called out. “Knock, knock. Who’s there?”

The closet door slowly creaked open. 

A small, slender figure moved deep within. Max blinked. 

Agnes stepped from the shadows. 

His heart stopped, disbelieving. “Paloma?”

She edged her way into the room, looking small, frail and tentative.

He bolted from the bed and wrapped around her. Feeling her flesh and bones, he squeezed. “Thank God, you’re alive!”

She didn’t pull away. Her arms circled his waist and she collapsed into him. He felt tears soaking into his shirt. He patted her hair, pressed his lips to her forehead. “It’s okay. Everything’s fine.”

From the corner of his eye, Maddie sat on the bed with her arms folded. Suddenly, she stood and cleared her throat. “I’m hungry. I’m going downstairs for breakfast.”

Paloma stiffened, then pulled away. “You’re not leaving this room alone. Tell her Max. Tell her about the danger.”

Max nodded. “Listen, we have to talk. Something’s happened. Both you ladies need to sit down.” 

Paloma reached for Maddie.

Maddie shrugged her off and moved to a chair near the window. 

Seemingly unsure of herself Paloma sat on the edge of the bed. “What happened?” she asked quietly.

Max took a deep breath. “I was waiting at the house when I heard it on the radio. There’s no easy way of saying this…” He looked at both women. “Clay’s dead.”

Paloma put her hand to her mouth and gasped.

Sunlight outlined Maddie’s darkened, motionless figure  “Daddy?” she said. “Daddy’s dead?”

Paloma got up from the bed, circled around and rushed to her daughter. The moment Paloma’s hand touched her daughter’s shoulder, Maddie screamed, “Get away!”

“Honey, sweetie –”

“It’s all your fault. It should have been you!”

“Me? But I –”

Maddie stood. Tears coursed down her cheeks. “I got to get out of here.” She ran to the door.

Max corralled her into his arms.

She squirmed. “Let me go!”

“I can’t do that.”

She tried beating him off, flailing her arms, gasping for air. He tightened his hold and rocked her. 

Slowly, her resistance waned. He cradled her face in his hands and looked into her dark brown eyes. “We got to get these people. Make them pay.”

Her breath caught. 

“Are you with me?”

Sniffling, she nodded.

“Good.”

Still hanging onto Maddie, he turned to Paloma. “And you?”

Slumped and seemingly dejected, she forced a nod. “Of course.”        

“Then let’s get to work.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The first part of the plan was to compare notes. Max was certain that the three of them had enough pieces, if not to complete the whole, to at least fill in some blanks. Paloma’s harrowing experience with Brandon further confirmed his suspicions.

Paloma asked, “If Natalie and Brandon are in this together, how is Daisy involved?”

Max sipped his coffee. “I don’t know.” He looked at Maddie. “You sure you’re not hungry?”

The girl shook her head.

The three of them sat around a small table. Maddie was huddled in a blanket. Paloma nervously fussed with the plates and food that room service had provided.

“But why are they after me?” said Paloma.

“I don’t know.”

“Daisy has to be involved.”

Max shook his head. “Not necessarily. Maybe Daisy was being used as a conduit to get to you. Do you know how long she’s been seeing Brandon?”

“Since January. He showed up at her place looking for some antiques.”

“January? You were spotted at Maddie’s play back in January. Maddie noticed you and told Clay and Natalie one evening. When you returned to New York from Chicago, did you go straight home or did you go to Daisy’s?”

Paloma thought for a moment, then nodded. “Actually I did. It was her birthday. We had dinner and a cake. She made a wish. Yes, now I remember. The very next day Brandon stopped by, out of nowhere, asking to see some sconces. She called me late that night and said her birthday wish had come true, that Prince Charming had swept her away.”

“That explains it. He followed you from Chicago, saw where he thought you lived, got a gun and headed back the next day to take care of business. Problem was, it was Daisy’s place.”   

“Maybe. But why get involved with Daisy?”

“Hard to track someone down without a name, assuming that’s all they had. In any event, Daisy was the only link to you.”

Paloma nodded. “According to Daisy, she and Brandon had dropped her mother off at my apartment so they could be alone. But he only stayed one night, then left. A few days later the bomb hit.”

“I suspect once Brandon knew where you lived, Daisy’s value diminished. He probably made that return flight trip from Chicago with you. Once in New York, he picked up a weapon  and tried again when you were in the subway.”

“But why firebomb my apartment?”

“If he hung around the subway, he would have seen for himself that you were still alive. Then later that night, he went by your apartment, saw the lights on and tried again. There was no reason to suspect that Daisy’s mother would still be there once you were back in town.”

“Yes, that all makes sense. But it always comes back to the same question.”

“What?”

“Why would they want to kill me when I’m dead anyway?”

Max nodded. “That’s the missing piece.”

“And why did they murder Clay? She could have divorced him and still gotten half of his estate.”

“There was no guarantee, I suppose. He had started the business long before he’d married her and some of those assets could be argued as pre-existing. On the other hand, having met her, maybe it was social standing. A grieving widow maintains her position in the social register. Not so with a divorcee.”

“You’re both wrong,” Maddie said with anger in her voice. “She wanted more.”

“How so?” Max asked.

“Daddy has patents pending. Once they were granted, he was going into production.”

“What kind of patents?”

“For gizmos. He had prototypes at the house.”

“Like what?”

“All kinds. There’s this wireless keyboard that you could use with one hand. It had five buttons but typed all the same letters as a typewriter. And there’s this seeing-eye thingy that mounted inside a monitor. When you glanced and blinked at an icon, the computer would automatically respond. He was doing stuff with pedals too. Little pads for toes.” Her breath caught as she was about to cry. She rallied, then laughed nervously. “He said, if we used our feet more, we’d be smarter.” 

Max rubbed his face. “I screwed this up. I should have gone to him as soon as I had the tape. We could have then gone to the police.”

In response to his words the two women looked down, a confirmation of his guilt.

“But I’ll make it right. I promise. However, before I do anything you both have to promise to stay together and out of sight, then –”

Paloma interrupted. “But what are you going to do?”

“There’s always a weak link. In this case Brandon. All I have to do is tell him that Natalie’s going to turn him in. Convince him to come clean.”

“Why would he do that?”

“He could plead and get less time, a lot less time.”

“And if he doesn’t go along?”

“There are always alternatives.”

Paloma persisted. “What kind of alternatives?”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

Maddie wrapped the blanket tighter and looked at him with sad puffy eyes. “But isn’t he dangerous? Won’t he try to kill you too? Why not go to the police?”

“I don’t have enough Maddie. The tape is good but there’s no collaborating evidence of when or where it was taken or even what the conversation was actually about. It would come down to my word against hers.” 

“But she could talk to the police too,” Maddie said pointing her chin toward Paloma. “Tell her part of the story, how Brandon was after her too.”