“I gather he lived a little rough,” Mattie said carefully.
“Well, we guessed that much.”
“He was a professional mercenary for a while, Aunt Charlotte.”
“Yes, I wondered if that might not be the case. It accounts for many of his skills and a lot of his inside knowledge of certain matters, doesn't it? How did you take the news, Mattie? He worried excessively about that, you know.”
“I told him it was obviously not a suitable line of work for him.”
Charlotte laughed at that. “Did you really? How odd.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Oh, no particular reason. Just that I would have imagined he'd have been rather good at that sort of thing.”
“I don't care what he did in the past or how well he did it,” Mattie said fiercely. “He's built a different life for himself now.”
“He's going after this Colonel Rainbird,” Aunt Charlotte pointed out gently.
“Old business,” Mattie said quietly. She knew then she had accepted the inevitable. Hugh had to be free to live his new life, and he was the only one who could close the door on the past. “It has to be cleaned up. And it's not exactly something that can be turned over to the police, Aunt Charlotte, although I wish to God it were.”
“It sounds as though you've come to terms with things. But it doesn't surprise me that you've got the inner fortitude to deal with this. You're a strong woman. Always have been. And Lord knows, Hugh needs a woman who is strong enough to handle his past as well as his present and future.”
“Hugh may have lived a harsh life, but there is one thing I know for certain.”
“And that is?” Charlotte prompted.
“He would never have lived a dishonorable life.”
“Umm, yes, I'm inclined to agree with you. Now, why don't you have some of your famous bug juice, Mattie dear? Take a few antistress vitamins, go do your aerobics workout, and try not to worry about Hugh too much. He'll be back for you.”
“That's what he said.”
“The problem, of course,” said Aunt Charlotte, “is what are you going to do when he does come back?”
She hung up the phone before Mattie could think of a response.
The next morning on the way to work Mattie spotted the figure huddled in the gallery doorway from halfway down the block. She sighed inwardly. It was not all that unusual to find a street person had spent the night sleeping in the minimal shelter provided by the shop entrance. Sad, but, unfortunately, not unusual.
She would wake him up and send him on his way with enough money for a cup of coffee.
She was fishing in her purse for a dollar when she realized it was no stranger who was crouched against the gallery window. The figure was wearing an outrageously fake fur coat and a pair of three-inch spike heels. She had a mass of unlikely blond curls boiling around her heavily made-up face.
“Evangeline!” Mattie shouted, breaking into a run. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“Hi, honey. Sorry about this. Got in this morning and came straight here. You said to look you up if I ever got to Seattle, and this was the address on that card you left me. When the cab let me off here, I thought there'd been a mistake.” She glanced quizzically at the paintings in the window. “This gallery really belong to you?”
“All mine.” Mattie thrust the key into the lock and opened the door. “Come on inside and warm up.”
“Jeez. This is really something. It's an art gallery, isn't it?” Evangeline eyed the contents of the shop with astonishment as Mattie turned on the lights. “You're not really in the business, at all, are you?”
“You mean, your particular business? No. But I am in business. How about a cup of tea?”
“Yeah, anything. I've had nothing but lousy airline food for the past twenty-four hours.” Evangeline followed her into the office and watched her plug in the little hot pot. “Got a bathroom?”
“Over there.” Mattie nodded toward the small door.
“Thanks. Be right out.”
When she returned, Evangeline had taken off the fake fur. She was wearing a skin-tight island-style sheath. She looked like an exotic flower that had been freshly plucked in the jungle and plunked down in Mattie's mundane little office.
“I suppose you wonder what the hell I'm doing here,” she said, sniffing suspiciously at the herbal tea.
“The question did cross my mind. You're more than welcome, though. It's good to see you again. You look great. I love that dress.”
“Just a little something I whipped up a couple of weeks ago. I had to leave a lot of really nice stuff behind, damn it.”
“I take it you left Hades in a hurry? Hugh tried to call you back after you phoned the other night, and the desk clerk said you'd already left with a suitcase. I was worried. What happened, Evangeline?”
“Remember I told you some trick was coming down the hall to my room and I had to get off the phone?”
“Yes?”
“Well, it wasn't a john. It was some guy named Gibbs. He wanted to talk to me about a friend of his. Someone named Rosey.”
“Rosey's dead. He was killed over on Purgatory.”
“That right? Well, his friend Gibbs was afraid of that. Wanted to know if I knew what the hell was going on. Mentioned this Rainbird guy again and said he sounded like trouble. He told me about the way your friend Abbott had stolen his boat to get off Purgatory and how Abbott had offered money for information on whoever might have shot a man named Cormier. When the name Rainbird came up again, I got real nervous. It occurred to me that I might already know a little too much. I've always trusted my instincts, you know?”
“So you decided to leave Brimstone?”
“Not just Brimstone. I decided to put a lot of distance between me and this Rainbird character until things cooled down. It occurred to me I needed a little vacation and it wouldn't hurt to come back to the States to check up on my investments. Brokers and accountants can get a little sloppy if you don't breathe down their necks once in a while, you know?”
“That's true,” Mattie agreed. “I make it a point to check in with mine in person a couple of times a year.”
“Right. So I figure I'll kill a couple of birds with one stone. Take care of business back here and wait for things to settle down out there.”
“That may have been a very smart move. I don't know for certain what's going on, but there's real trouble brewing. Hugh left yesterday morning.”
“Yeah? What's he going to do?”
“I wish I knew,” Mattie said sadly. “Look, if you don't mind sleeping on a big couch, you're welcome to stay with me for a while until you decide what you want to do.”
Evangeline looked startled at first and than strangely grateful. “That's real nice of you, honey. Sure you don't mind?”
“Not in the least. I think I'll rather enjoy having company.”
Evangeline grinned. “I'll take you out to dinner. My treat.”
“Sounds great. We can talk business investments.”
They made a decidedly odd-looking pair that evening as they walked into the lounge of one of Seattle's best restaurants and sat down for a drink. Every eye in the place turned at least briefly toward Mattie's companion. And then, having assessed Evangeline and come to certain conclusions, those same eyes turned with great curiosity to Mattie.
Evangeline looked extremely dashing in another of her own creations, a flower-splashed, low-necked dress with long sleeves and a hem that ended mid-thigh. Mattie felt quite staid in the demure, heather-toned, high-necked dress that Evangeline had decided was the only wearable garment in Mattie's closet aside from the red sarong. Mattie had declined to wear the sarong out in downtown Seattle on the grounds that it was too cold. This wasn't the islands, after all.
“This is great, you know?” Evangeline glanced around at the ferns, polished wood, and dapper customers. “Usually when I'm in a bar, I'm working. Nice to be able to come in and just sit down and relax.”
“Sure, honey.”
“Would you go shopping with me tomorrow? I could use some advice.”
Evangeline laughed and heads turned again. “You bet. Can't think of anything I'd rather do than go shopping.” She leaned forward. “And confidentially, honey, you could use some help.”
“I know.”
“I didn't want to say too much, but the truth is, I was a little shocked by what you've got in that closet of yours. All the wrong colors. And you need a style that makes the most of your figure. You're a little thin, but that's okay. The right styles will make you look sleek. Those business suits just sort of cover you up, if you know what I mean.”
“I had a feeling they weren't quite me.” Mattie smiled. “At least, not any longer.”
“So you and this Abbott are together full-time, huh?” Evangeline sipped her wine. “For real?”
Mattie nodded. “He says so.”
“Is he planning on moving here to Seattle or are you going out there?”
“That's one of the things we're still working on,” Mattie admitted.
“I'll bet you end up out there,” Evangeline said thoughtfully. “I don't know Abbott very well. Just saw him with you that morning. But my guess is that he ain't the city type.”
“No, I don't think he is.”
“And men aren't very adaptable. Ever notice? They tend to get real set in their ways. Much more so than women.”
“I expect that's one of the reasons why women have usually had to do the adapting,” Mattie agreed with a sigh. “It's not fair, is it?”
“Nope. But that's life, I guess. So what will you do if you go out to St. Gabe with him? Lie around and get a tan?”
“Tanning is no longer considered a healthy leisure-time activity,” Mattie said.
“I heard that. Sort of like sex. I'm thinking of going out of the business real soon.”
“You're going to open that little dress boutique you talked about? Design your own clothes for tourists?”
Evangeline nodded. “I think I've got enough in certificates of deposit, T-bills, and stocks to do it now. First thing I've got to do is find a good location, though. Hawaii is too crowded. Commercial rents are sky high. I need a place that's just about to get discovered, you know? Some place where the tourists are just starting to head. Brimstone ain't it.”
“Hugh says St. Gabe is on the way to being discovered,” Mattie said almost to herself. “The tourists are starting to show up regularly.”
“Yeah? Hey, maybe you and me could both go into business there. Wouldn't that be a kick?”
“I can't sew.” Then Mattie smiled slowly. “But I can sell paintings. And if I can sell art, I can probably sell anything. Tourists always buy souvenirs, don't they?”
“You're serious, aren't you?”
“I've got to figure something out. And fast. The walls are starting to close in on me.”
“I know the feeling. Been closing in on me for years. This Rainbird thing was the last straw.”
Mattie was never quite certain what woke her that night. She had been sleeping fitfully anyway, so perhaps it was simply the change in the pattern of shadows on the ceiling when the door to the huge studio was stealthily opened.
Whatever it was, she knew that something was very wrong. For a few seconds she lay absolutely still, wishing desperately that Hugh were there beside her. Then she heard the tiny squeak that signaled the door being closed.
Mattie took several deep breaths, fighting to overcome the panic that gripped her. She could not just lie here like this while someone burglarized the apartment. Evangeline was asleep on the couch. Whoever had come into the studio would see her.
Mattie pushed back the covers and silently got out of the bed. She tiptoed to the railing and looked down.
There, silhouetted in the light coming in through the high windows, was the figure of a man. The faint neon glow glinted off the gun in his hand as he aimed it at Evangeline.
Without skipping a beat, Mattie's fear turned to fury. This was her apartment, her sanctuary. She would not allow anyone to invade it like this.
Mattie snatched up the heavy black vase by her bed and hurled it over the edge of the railing, straight at the intruder's bare head.
There was a horrendous crash. The man with the gun crumpled to the floor, his gun skittering across the wooden surface. The intruder groaned and tried to rise. Mattie grabbed the phone and yanked the plug out of the wall. She raced down the spiral staircase with some vague notion of using the phone as a club.
But she needn't have worried.
Evangeline screamed as she woke up and took in the situation at a glance. Obviously accustomed to emergencies such as this, she leaped up off the couch and began bashing the fallen man over the head with the nearest available object. It was Shock Value Frederickson's brilliantly executed metal sculpture, On the Brink.
The man groaned once more and fell back onto the floor.
CHAPTER
Seventeen
“Good grief, Evangeline, be careful with that sculpture. It's going to be worth a fortune in another five years.” Mattie had just rounded the last turn in the staircase and leaped off the last step, phone raised on high. The hem of her flannel nightgown trailed behind her as she flew across the room. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, thanks to you, honey. You're a great one for coming to the rescue, aren't you?” Evangeline, dressed in a skimpy black lace nightie decorated with not-so-discreetly placed black lace roses, lowered On the Brink and surveyed the man on the floor. “Anyone you know?”
“Why on earth would I know him? Must be a burglar or rapist or something.” Mattie flipped on the nearest light switch and took a closer look at the young, dark-haired man on the floor. He was dressed in black jeans, black boots, and a black pullover sweater. He looked like a movie version of a cat burglar. Or an assassin. “Oh, my God.”
“You do know him?”
“It's the man who was following me home in the rain the other night.”
Evangeline looked up. “Who is he?”
“I don't know his name. I just saw him behind me the other evening. He was wearing a trenchcoat then, and I had a weird feeling he was watching me.” Mattie put down the phone she had unplugged in the loft and reached for the downstairs extension. “I'll call nine-one-one.”
She had gotten as far as punching out the number nine when the man on the floor stirred. She hesitated, glancing in his direction. “Do you think we should hit him again, Evangeline?”
Evangeline hovered over the sprawled figure with On the Brink held at the ready. “I'll handle it.”
The man's lashes fluttered, and he looked first at Mattie and then at Evangeline with dazed eyes. “Bitches.”
“Be ready to cream him if he so much as moves an inch, Evangeline.”
“Too late,” the man muttered. “Trap's already closing on Abbott and Taggert. Too late to save them.”
Mattie froze. “Trap? What sort of trap? What are you talking about?”
The man's lips thinned in a vicious parody of a death's head grin. “Nothing you can do, bitch.”
“What is this trap for Silk and Hugh?” Mattie snapped, her fingers trembling on the phone.
“Like lambs to the slaughter.” The man's lashes fluttered weakly and he groaned. “Never know what hit 'em.”
“When the police find out what you were up to, they'll take care of everything,” Mattie said defiantly.
The man showed his teeth in another deadly grin. “Get real, bitch. As far as the cops are concerned, I followed a whore back to her apartment, and we had a little falling out, that's all. Happens all the time.”
“Not in my apartment,” Mattie said.
The intruder slid back into unconsciousness.
Evangeline and Mattie traded glances, and then Mattie went ahead and punched out the number of the emergency code.
Silence fell
on the room while they waited for the police.
“I guess we should get ready for the cops,” Mattie said after a minute.
“Yeah. Look, Mattie, you want me to disappear or something?”
“Of course not. You're staying right here. This is my apartment and you're a friend of mine,” Mattie reminded her. “I assure you my reputation can withstand an investigation by the Forces of Moral Righteousness and the FBI combined. That's the beauty of having led a very dull life.” She eyed Evangeline's black lace nightie. “Still, it might not hurt if we both put on a robe or something.”
Evangeline grinned. “Yeah, wouldn't want 'em to get any ideas. I'll keep an eye on this turkey while you go find one. I've got something in the suitcase I can use.”
Mattie went back up to the loft to pull on her brown chenille bath robe and a pair of fluffy bedroom slippers. She surveyed herself in the mirror and decided it would have been impossible to look any more dowdy if she had deliberately tried.
When she got back downstairs she saw that Evangeline had found a see-through black negligee in her suitcase and was shrugging into it.
Mattie cleared her throat delicately as she surveyed the negligee. “I'm sure the Seattle police have seen just about everything, but there's no sense showing them more than necessary. After all, we do want them to keep their mind on business. Do you want to borrow a robe? I have a spare.”
Evangeline looked skeptically at what Mattie had on. “Does it look anything like that one?”
“I'm afraid so.” Mattie went to the closet and found the old faded bathrobe. “But we can replace both the one I'm wearing and this one when you take me shopping.”
“Well, all right.” Evangeline tugged on the old robe with a grimace of distaste. “Speaking of cops, just exactly what do you plan to tell them?”
“I don't know.” Mattie sat down on the couch. “We could tell them everything, I suppose, but who's going to believe it? We can't prove a thing about Rainbird or the rest of it. Also, I'm not quite sure how much of his past Hugh wants dredged up. I think we need diplomatic advice.”
“Who from?”
Silver Linings Page 27