Vengeance is Mine - A Benjamin Tucker Mystery (23 page)

The academy award winners got into the Flying Spur and left. Nora was in the back passenger side seat. My perfectly tailored tuxedo made it impossible to carry Pure Reason. I had tried the shoulder holster on, but it looked like I was stealing something under my jacket. Technically, wearing a concealed weapon to an event where alcohol was served and consumed was prohibited anyway. But that wouldn’t have stopped me.

I wasn’t used to driving the Bentley, and several times, I found myself traveling more than twenty miles per hour over the speed limit. We rolled off of Blue Ridge Road onto the museum access road and wound our way around to the main entrance. As we approached, we noticed two young valet parking attendants in full spit-shine, wearing tuxedos.

“Good god,” Maggie said, “they don’t look old enough to be out of high school.” She touched my arm as I pulled up and stopped. “There’s no way they’re driving my Bentley.”

“Don’t worry, pretty lady,” I said as I opened my door. “I’ll take care of the car.”

I walked around to the other side and opened the door for Maggie. She slid gracefully out and smoothed the wrinkles from her dress. Then I opened the back door and helped Nora to her feet.

“Damn!” Maggie said suddenly. Nora and I flinched and looked at her. “I forgot the M&Ms. Marcus loves them, and I have a huge silver bowl waiting inside to put them in. I wanted to have something silly and fun on the buffet table with all the other fancy things. Where’s my head?”

“Well disaster!” I said. She narrowed her eyes at me.

I grinned. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. It’s early yet. I’ll go find some.”

Relief spread over her face, and she kissed me lightly. “Thank you, Ben. This night is always so important to me. I want it to be perfect for the guests who are coming here. They donate a lot of money.”

I turned to Nora and whispered. “She’s just cranky because she knows if she weren’t here, you and I would run off together.”

“I heard that,” Maggie said. “Can we please quit with the flirting with my mother for one night?” I gently slapped Nora on the rear as the two of them began to walk away. She giggled like a schoolgirl.

Maggie looked over her shoulder and shot a flame at me with her eyes. I then turned to the two young valets drooling to drive the Flying Spur. “Who are you dashing young men?”

The young black man said, “I’m Warren and this is Marty.”

“Well, nice to meet you both,” I said. “I’m–”

Warren quickly said, “You’re Mr. T … Ms. Marshak’s husband.”

“Yep, I’m Mr. T. Well, I hate to disappoint you guys, but my wife doesn’t want anyone but me to drive her car.” They deflated, and it was downright pitiful.

“Anyway, I need to take a quick run to a supermarket,” I said. “Do either of you know if there’s one nearby?”

Warren pointed south. “There’s one south on Blue Ridge about a mile away.”

I looked in that direction. “I’m not sure where I’m going,” I said. “Sure would be great if one of you could come with me and show me where it is.”

“I’ll go!” they both shouted at the same time. They started bargaining with each other over who would get to go.

I mediated and suggested they both go and leave the valet station unattended for a few minutes. “Paying guests probably won’t be starting to arrive for a while anyway.”

They became six-year-olds and couldn’t get into the car fast enough. Warren sat up front and Marty sat in the back behind him. We rolled down Blue Ridge Road and pulled into a Harris Teeter parking lot a few minutes later.

I handed Warren the keyless transmitter and winked. “Here, find some music on the radio.”

Maggie didn’t tell me what kind of M&Ms to buy so I used my executive procurement management skills, and I got some of each: milk chocolate, dark chocolate, peanut, almond, peanut butter, and those new ones with the little pretzel inside. She also didn’t tell me how big the silver bowl was, so I just threw caution to the wind and got a shitload. Marcus Renault Bradley better thank me big-time.

 Marty and Warren switched places, and we were back at the museum by twenty minutes before seven. I dropped them off at the valet station, parked the Bentley in the back, and walked across the plaza to the west building.

Officer Stanton was standing to the right of the door, shivering.

“Officer Stanton, I’m surprised to see you,” I said.

I noticed the added heft under her coat. “You wearin’ a vest?”

She nodded. “Yep. Orders from the Lieutenant until further notice.”

“Well, he cares about you and wants to make sure you don’t get hurt.”

“I’m sort of your protection tonight,” she said. “No one thinks Plum will do anything at the fundraiser, but the Lieutenant isn’t taking any chances.”

“I’m actually surprised he would put you up alone against such a cold-blooded killer.”

“Oh,” she said. “I’m not supposed to confront him if anything happens. My orders are to call for backup and—” She stopped mid-sentence as if the rest might be awkward.

“Backup and what?” I asked, waiting.

“Well, the Lieutenant told me I should prevent you from doing anything crazy.”

I laughed. “Don’t worry about it. Netter’s always callin’ me crazy. I’m not sure why. I never do anything crazy.” She grinned. Someone had been telling her things.

Why don’t you go in?” I asked.

She turned and looked inside at all the dazzle and glamour. “I don’t want to dampen the party.”

I scoffed at her. “Nonsense. Come on in and enjoy yourself.” I laughed. “Besides, I can’t have you standing out here. What if I go crazy in there?” I put her arm through mine and led her through the museum door.

Maggie and Nora walked over to greet us, and I introduced Officer Stanton.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Tucker. I hope you don’t mind my being inside. I can stay outside the entry door if I’m in the way.”

“Of course not. Please come right in and join the guests. And please call me Maggie.” Nora took Officer Stanton to show her around, and I wandered in another direction to check out the shindig.

To the right of the information desk and directly across from the entrance was a harpist. A year ago, I would have found this a little corny, but she was extremely talented, and I discovered that I enjoyed it very much.

My friends from Carletti were managing the bar again at the east end of the building by the coffee bar. After shaking hands all around and saying my hellos, I borrowed a tray, put a glass of champagne and a cosmopolitan on it, and returned to my wife and Nora. Marcus had now joined them.

When Maggie looked at me, I said, “I’ve had some complaints about you.” She smiled. “Maybe we can discuss them later this evening. There’s a little place I know called Eddie’s. They have unforgettable coffee.” Her eyes sparkled, and her smile lit up the room. I hoped some poor waiter bastard was in charge of dimming the lights. She opened her small silver evening bag, pulled out something gift-wrapped, and handed it to me. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

I opened the gift. It was a dazzling watch. “Wow, this is beautiful. Thank you, my love.” I kissed her. “You really didn’t need to give me anything. All I need is you.”

Marcus examined the watch. “Hey, that’s a Rolex. That looks like platinum. Jesus, I’ll bet that thing cost—” Maggie elbowed Marcus in the ribs and looked at me with a huge smile. She handed Marcus the serving tray, took my left arm, and replaced my fifty dollar watch with the new Rolex. She tucked my old watch in her bag.

Maggie and Nora left to mingle with the guests, especially the influential ones. A bountiful, first-rate buffet was set up along the floor to ceiling windows directly across from the museum restaurant. Marcus and I spent the next hour there munching and shooting the breeze.

Stanton walked by, and I stopped her and introduced her to Marcus. I made sure she felt welcome to help herself to the spread. Marcus helped me and made a point of showing her to
his
M&M bowl and to the coffee bar behind us. She talked with us for a few minutes and then scanned the area. I assured her I’d be fine, and she excused herself and left to explore the museum collections.

I exchanged text messages with Amanda Jane to see how she was doing. It had only been seven hours since burying her mother. She told me she was okay, but I knew better. I sent “459”. Nothing came right back. I smiled. That’ll keep her busy for awhile.

At eight fifteen, Maggie stepped up onto a low speaker’s platform and turned on a microphone. She thanked all of the guests for their support and generosity and told everyone how important the museum and the arts were to the Raleigh area.

My cell phone vibrated, and I pulled it out. I smiled as I looked at a text from my daughter. “4592”.

Maggie said a few more words, and then it was time to announce the winners of the silent auction.

“The first item,” Maggie said, “is a one thousand dollar gift certificate from Marshak’s Department Store. The winner is … Mr. and Mrs. Robert Golen for a bid of seven hundred seventy-five dollars.” Robert Golen walked up and accepted the gift certificate. After each item, everyone applauded.

Finally, she reached the bottle of wine. “This next item is a bottle of Dancing Frog Vineyards cabernet sauvignon from Napa Valley, California. The winner is—” She stopped reading the card in her hand and looked over at me before continuing. “Mr. Benjamin Tucker, my husband, for a bid of—” She stopped briefly before continuing. “Five thousand dollars!” She turned to me and mouthed the words, “Thank you.”

I walked up and accepted my bottle of wine like it was an Oscar. Julie would have enjoyed it. Maggie smiled, and I reached for the microphone and said, “I wanted it for the label.”

There was laughter, and then some of the guests began tapping their forks on their glasses like people do at weddings. Maggie was delightedly surprised when I wrapped my arm around her waist and dipped her, and planted a great big kiss on her mouth. The crowd erupted in cheering and applause, and when I caught Nora’s eye, she gave me a big smile and a thumbs up.

Maggie took the microphone back and said, “Thank you, Mr. Tucker … and I’m sure we’ll talk about this later.” When the guests stopped laughing, she continued. “Our next item is a gift certificate from Harvey’s Steak and Lobster House for two hundred dollars.”

The moment was interrupted by two loud pops immediately followed by a third pop. It sounded like firecrackers. Or gunfire! I froze for a split second before sweeping Maggie off the platform. Other guests now realized what was happening, causing confusion and disorientation in the room as people chaotically rushed to find shelter.

Marcus and I left Maggie behind a floating wall panel away from where the commotion seemed to have originated. On heightened alert, we cautiously walked two hundred feet to our left into the court housing the bronze sculptures by Auguste Rodin. A small crowd was gathered there. Officer Lisa Stanton was lying on the floor—under her right shoulder, a small pool of blood slowly increasing in size. A museum security officer was also on the floor. He wasn’t breathing.

I knelt down, gently raised Officer Stanton, and held her cradled in my arms. Her eyes were open and filled with terror. It looked like one bullet had gone completely through her shoulder. Another had hit her in the chest, stopped by the Kevlar vest. “Call 911!” I shouted.

A man said he’d called an ambulance, and police were on their way. Marcus had quickly found a clean white tablecloth and knelt with me as we tried to stop Stanton’s bleeding. I told her help was coming and to just hang in there. She never took her eyes off mine. I looked at Marcus Bradley, very afraid. “That’s it,” I said. “I don’t care what Maggie says. The family leaves for Larkspur in the morning.”

“I’ll make the arrangements,” he said.

When I looked back down, Stanton’s eyes were closed, and I was unable to rouse her.

A woman behind me began screaming. She said nothing but began backing up pointing to the sculpture to my left. It was a Rodin full-scale bronze likeness labeled
Monumental Torso of the Walking Man
. On its neck sat the decomposing head of Carla Diane Knudsen.

CHAPTER 32

Maggie and I never made it to Eddie’s. Instead, we spent the entire night packing the family for their evacuation to Larkspur.

We were up, dressed, and ready to go before sunrise. Roberta whipped up a simple breakfast of scrambled eggs and cheddar cheese biscuits. She apologized, if you can imagine that, and said she would make it up to everyone at the beach. We sat together as a family for the last time until Jack Plum could be stopped—captured or killed.

As we ate, there was a tension in the air we all tried to ignore. Julie chattered away nervously about things she didn’t care about. She was trying to lighten things up, but it wasn’t working very well. Oscar came around the corner, and we all laughed at the sight of him. Julie had dressed him in a Superman T-shirt and tied a small red satin cape around his neck. He looked absolutely ridiculous, and it seemed like his feelings were hurt when we laughed. Roberta picked him up and sat him in her lap and took the cape off. “You don’t want that thing on your neck,
pobrecito
.” She kissed him on the head, and I think he actually smiled. Then she tied the cape on Julie’s arm and tickled her.

Marcus Bradley arrived at six o’clock with the family’s new security team, Paul McClary and Scott Friedman. Both men were ex-Navy Seals, lean and muscular, in peak condition. They were neatly dressed in black cargo pants, black T-shirts, and black windbreakers. The jackets hid the hardware underneath, but I knew what was there. Marcus handed me a slip of paper and simply said, “Your order is ready to be picked up.”

Netter called at six forty-five, and I answered with a sense of foreboding. “Stanton?” I asked.

“She’s still unconscious but holding her own. That’s not why I called. I need you down here at the department as soon as possible. You want me to send someone to pick you up?”

“No. I’m getting ready to ship the family off here in just a few minutes. Then I’ll head your way.” I hung up.