“Please, Oliver. You wouldn’t have to tell anyone. I’d just feel so much safer.”
Oliver pulled me closer. “You’re safe with me, Maizie. Why don’t we go back—”
The office door banged open. I shrieked, and Oliver clutched me against his chest.
“Thank God someone’s on duty,” said Vicki. “I need another suite and I think your reception attendant is sleeping. Oliver, you need to do something about the service around here.”
I leaped from Oliver and turned to face Vicki. She nonchalantly tightened the belt on her silk kimono robe, her gaze averted. But she’d seen everything.
“Perhaps you don’t need your room, Maizie,” she said. “You weren’t there when I checked. Glad I found you here. With Oliver. This will save us time.”
“Try the front desk again,” I said. “I’m sure the receptionist is no longer asleep. The whole spa probably heard you burst in here.”
“Give me the keys to your room,” she said. “I can’t spend another night with that man and his machismo.”
I gazed at the ceiling, then the floor. Crossed my arms. “No. You can’t have my room.”
Oliver gave a small groan and returned to his office chair.
“You need to work it out with Giulio,” I said. “You’ve been taking him for granted. Either work it out or cut him free. Not just from the engagement, but from his contract. He deserves better treatment. You’re wasting his time and talent when he could be working on other shows.”
“Just because you quit All is Albright, doesn’t mean you can pull everyone into your mutiny. We’re having a tiff. When Giulio calms down, everything will be fine.”
“It wasn’t a mutiny, Vicki. It’s called the terms of my probation.”
“She used probation as an excuse to quit,” said Vicki to Oliver. “Just liked she used partying as an excuse to bomb other projects. She wants to fail.”
My libido jerked free from vanity’s grip thanks to a kick in the butt from pride. “It wasn’t an excuse. And I don’t want to fail.”
Wait. Did I want to fail? Is that what I was doing here instead of actually investigating? “What am I doing in here? With Oliver…Oh my God. I’ve lost my mind.”
“Not your mind,” said Vicki. “But perhaps your dignity. It’s not like you’re the first person to hook up with an ex.”
“Oh God,” I wheezed, my thoughts straying once again to Nash and Jolene. “So true.”
“Calm down, Maizie.” Oliver rose from his chair and rushed around the desk. “You’re starting to breathe erratically again.”
“Honestly, Maizie. Does everything have to be about you?” Vicki rolled her eyes. “Oliver got you into your current predicament. But he can get you out. You offered her the job, didn’t you?”
“Wait. What?” I forgot to exhale and sucked in another breath. My lungs spasmed and I held up a finger, fighting to gain control over my body. Let out a shaky breath. “You told Oliver to get me the job at Wellspring?”
“I would have offered you the security position anyway,” said Oliver. “We could work together. It would be perfect. Vicki just helped your probation officer get you in the door so you could get used to the idea.”
“You set all this up, Vicki? Community service and my therapist? To give me a job until what? I quit investigations and start acting again?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I recruited Dr. Trident because I wanted you to have the best therapist. I am still your mother.”
“Dr. Trident’s not even pro bono? You’re paying him?” I felt dizzy. “I couldn’t even get a free therapist on my own?”
“Why would someone like Dr. Trident work for free?” She scoffed. “He only treats celebrities. Haven’t you looked at his Snapchat?”
“And Oliver?” My lip trembled. “Did she pay you, too? Like Giulio?”
“Baby, of course, not.” Oliver reached for me and I slunk away. “It’s not like that, Maizie. Although I did come to Black Pine for you. Vicki knew I’d do just about anything to get you back.”
“Oh my God.” I closed my eyes. “Do you even realize how that sounds?”
“Stalkerish,” said Vicki. “Poor choice of words. But get a grip, Maizie. You’ve been in much worse situations. Of your own doing, may I remind you.”
“Maizie, why don’t you sit down,” said Oliver. “I’ll get Vicki a room and we’ll just talk. Get everything out in the open. You’re having another panic attack. That’s why you can’t think rationally.”
“Any more talking and I’ll end up with more than a panic attack.” I darted to the door. “I just want to think irrationally by myself.”
* * *
I returned to my room, determined to focus on the case — any case, actually — and not on my love life. Or lack thereof. Everett Lawson was at large, armed and possibly dangerous. No one but Dr. Trident seemed to know him. I still had no good leads on Chandler Jonson except his crazy jealous brother was hanging out with Everett Lawson’s young disciple. Which couldn’t be good.
I hated calling Ian Mowry in the middle of the night, but Agent Langtry never picked up. It was like she was ignoring my calls.
Which possibly, because of the number of calls I left for her, she was.
“Mowry,” he said fuzzily. “Maizie?” His voice grew more alert. “Maizie, what’s wrong?”
“Everett Lawson is one of the guy’s I saw at the Price house and he just took off on an ATV with a rifle.”
“At Wellspring?”
“He left from a retrofitted garage in their hidden back area. I also found my stolen backpack with the ATVs. Mara’s camera and my phone are missing but everything else was inside. Of course, after taking the valuables, my mugger could have dumped the backpack in the woods and someone else could have found it and left it in the ATV garage as trash. But I think it was Everett Lawson who attacked us.”
“When you say mugger, are you implying that you hadn’t left your backpack with your bike like you originally told me?”
“Um.” This is why I didn’t like lying. “Ian, let’s just skip to the part where you put out an APB out on Everett Lawson.”
“Did anything else happen tonight, Maizie? You’re sounding a mite hysterical. Or at least more than usual.”
Oh boy. I so did not want to get into my family melodrama with Ian Mowry. Getting caught lying was humiliating enough.
“Hon’? Is Oliver Fraser…is everything okay?” He took a breath. “You don’t have to stay there. I’ve got Maddie here tonight, but I can send someone to get you. You can stay here. I’ll take the couch. Until we figure out what to do.”
His daughter, Maddie. Ian Mowry was playing domestic disturbance white knight when he had a six-year-old to think about.
I used that thought as the slap in the face I needed. I needed to concentrate on the objective: find Chandler Jonson. Let the police deal with Everett Lawson. I’d deal with Roger Price.
Forty-Three
#OvercomingHistory #HoldingHandsAndTakingNames
In the morning, I opened my door to find a tray of strawberries, muffins, and French press coffee. A single note read, “I’m sorry. Oliver.”
I noted there was not a similar message from Vicki. Natch.
Before leaving the building, I sought Oliver in his office. He cautiously greeted me from behind his desk.
“Last night was my fault,” I said. “I led you on. I tried not to, but I’m not thinking clearly this week. Sometimes it’s hard to overcome history. I should probably bring it up at my next couch session.”
“I got carried away, too,” he said. “Can we start over?”
We shared niceties about breakfast, feather pillows, and French press coffee. Then the not-so-niceties of my suspicions about Everett Lawson.
“I called the police last night,” I said. “I think he was the one who attacked me in the woods, too.”
“What?” Oliver pushed out of his chair. “Sweetheart.”
I held up a hand. I could tell
Oliver wanted more hugging and as much as I hated to deny myself hugs, I had to stay on track. “Detective Mowry is taking me to visit Roger Price in jail.”
Oliver crossed his arms. “I’m worried, Maizie. What if the other bank robbers learn you’re still investigating?”
“The ATF is investigating, not me. I just want to know who’s trying to hunt me down, so I can focus on finding my missing person.” I shrugged. “And if I can help the ATF, I’ll have accomplished at least one good thing this week.”
“You’ve already accomplished one good thing,” said Oliver and patted his heart.
If I wasn’t overcoming history, I would have hugged him.
* * *
Ian arrived early enough to take me to the hospital before seeing Roger Price. I told Ian it was lucky I’d already grabbed the gaming transcripts and put them in my backpack when Oliver and I had been chased from the office.
Ian told me he wouldn’t consider getting chased by a guy with a handgun lucky at all.
At the hospital, we found Nash arguing with the physical therapist. “I’m ready. I can walk.”
“Like a drunk man,” she said. “Give it another day. And don’t even think about driving. Don’t push yourself. Stay home and rest. Isn’t your wife picking you up?”
My stomach twisted at the wife implication, but while riding in Ian’s Tahoe, I’d mentally rehearsed my new role—the spunky sidekick. One who was not in love with her boss and only cared about keeping her job. And not getting killed by bank bombers.
Nash spotted us in the doorway and motioned for us to enter. “Mowry. Give me the latest in the bombing investigation. Maizie, how’s your missing person case?”
“Don’t wear him out,” warned the therapist as she passed us. “He’s cranky because he’s tired and dizzy.”
“I’m cranky because I’m stuck in here,” he thundered.
I laid the gym bag on his bed. “I have the gaming transcripts and all the Price case notes for you. And the notes I’ve made on the Chandler Jonson case. But I’m kind of behind on those considering people are still trying to kill me.”
“What?” Nash grabbed my hand and released it. “Mowry? What the hell is going on?”
Ian recounted the incident at Jolene’s office, then added my Everett Lawson reconnaissance. Nash’s jaw tightened throughout Ian’s monologue. When the veins in his neck began to bulge, I motioned to Ian to stop.
“Yesterday was kind of a long day,” I said, trying to diffuse his anxiety. “But at least the teenagers and Remi are safe.”
“Where’s your sidearm? I told you to carry.”
“In a safe at Wellspring. They don’t allow weapons. Aside from the guards. And Everett Lawson, if you count him.”
Nash rubbed his temples. A nerve ticked above his eye.
“Let’s all calm down,” I said with all the congeniality I could muster accompanied with my Cosmo cover smile. “Everything’s fine.”
“Stop trying to make this look better than it is,” said Nash.
Ian moved closer and put a hand on my shoulder. “She’s trying to make this easier on you, Wyatt. We don’t have to report to you. This was a courtesy.”
“Miss Albright’s my employee. She does have to report to me.”
Ian’s hand tightened on my shoulder. “Watch yourself, Wyatt. Maizie’s been through a lot.”
“And what are you doing?” Nash narrowed his eyes. “Other than holding her hand and taking her to lunch?”
Ian’s hand dropped from my shoulder and curled into a fist. “We’re leaving, Maizie.”
I slid between the two men. “No one’s been holding my hand. Much. And I can’t remember the last time I had lunch. Chill.”
They both gave me the side eye.
“Don’t leave,” said Nash. “You have my humble apology. What’s the intel on these jokers who’re hassling Miss Albright?”
Ian sighed. “Everett Lawson doesn’t officially work at Wellspring but seemed to have access to everything. ATF said they would handle the research and recon. It’s only Maizie’s testimony of seeing Everett Lawson at the Price house that links him to the bank and the death of Mrs. Price.”
“What about the body you found on Black Pine Mountain?” I said. “Maybe that’s related.”
Ian shook his head. “Unrelated to the bank. GBI made the fingerprint match. The victim’s part of an Atlanta gang involved in a drug cartel. We think it was a revenge killing or an argument between members that got out of hand. No evidence of anything more than the single victim.”
“You had another murder while I was out?” said Nash.
“Technically, it happened Friday. About the same time as the bank. Someone found him on the peak near the lookout. He and the perp could’ve stopped in Black Pine while driving between Atlanta and the Carolinas. We’re coordinating with Atlanta police. Anyway, I’ve been balancing that investigation with…” Ian looked at me.
“My hot mess?”
“Agent Langtry put me in charge of her key witness,” Ian spoke soothingly. “Not that she’ll let me do anything else.”
“Langtry lumped you with me? I’m so sorry, Ian. I’m hurting your career.”
Nash pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can we focus on the bank robbery? Why are they sticking around town? With the robbery blown, you’d think they’d have hightailed it until things cooled off.”
“My theory is they think Maizie’s an eyewitness and can testify,” said Ian. “She was in the parking lot at the time of the robbery. Then she showed at the Price house and that made them nervous. Maybe they were parked near the bank and spotted her.”
“Miss Albright was an eyewitness?”
“You don’t remember?” I said. “You left me in the parking lot in your truck. Which Lamar won’t let me drive, by the way.”
“I don’t remember anything about that day.” Nash stared at his feet.
Ian and I exchanged a look of pity. Although Ian’s pity was probably mixed with “Damn, that’s witness testimony we can’t get.”
Considering the return of the tick and bulging neck veins, Nash did not care for our pity. “Mowry, what kind of FUBAR show is Black Pine PD running? I’m holding you responsible. You knew Miss Albright was an eyewitness and you’ve let her run around town. You know how she is.”
“What does that mean?” I said.
“I’m going to let that pass, considering you’ve had a blow to the head,” said Ian. “It wasn’t clear that there was a threat to Maizie until yesterday.”
“That’s sort of my fault,” I said. “I’ve had my probation officer all over me and I didn’t want to get into trouble. I’ve been purposely vague with Ian. In certain regards.”
Ian shot me a “we’ll talk later” look but kept his tone patient. “Maizie’s safety has been my priority. Her ex-boyfriend took on the role as a personal bodyguard and insisted she stay at the Wellspring Center. At the time, it seemed like a reasonable solution.”
“Giulio Baloney?” Nash spoke through gritted teeth. “Why in the hell would you trust Miss Albright’s safety to that idiot?”
“Not Giulio Belloni,” I said. “Oliver Fraser.”
“Who’s Oliver Fraser? How long have I been out?” Nash collapsed against the mattress. “Cripes, my head is killing me.”
I laid a hand on his forehead. “Please calm down. Everything is going to be okay.”
“Lord Almighty.” Nash stared at the ceiling. “I take a four-day nap and everything goes to hell.”
“What’s going on? Why is Wyatt so upset?”
Jolene. My breath hissed through my teeth. I slipped my hand from Nash’s forehead and backed up a step. “We’ll go now. I’m sorry for everything, Mr. Nash.”
His hand shot out to snag mine. “Just a minute. Jolene, wait in the hall.”
“I’ll do no such thing. These two are upsetting you. You’re in pain. She keeps bringing work when you’re supposed to be resting. Maizie, if you’re not capable of doing the j
ob, get into a new line of business. You’re going to need a new job anyway if I have anything to say about it.”
I flinched and tried to jerk my hand from Nash’s.
Nash tightened his grip.
“That’s uncalled for, Jolene,” said Ian behind us.
“You, too, Officer Mowry? How many men is she seeing? Honest to God, she must have a revolving door on her bedroom.”
“That’s Detective Mowry, ma’am. And the patient asked you to step into the hall. I’ll escort you.”
“Wyatt? Are you going to let him escort me out of your room?” said Jolene.
Nash ignored her. “Look at me,” he muttered.
I swung my gaze to meet his. The polar blue had frosted over.
“Come on, Jolene,” said Ian.
The door clattered shut on the rising pitch of Jolene’s voice.
The icy eyes narrowed. “Miss Albright. When I met you, I thought you were scatterbrained and silly. You proved me wrong. You’re smart and capable. So why are you trying to convince yourself you’re not?”
“I’m—”
“I see right through you. You’re better than this.”
“But Nash—”
“Don’t let anyone bully you. You’ve got a job to do. If your ass is on the line, stop worrying about everyone else and take care of that ass.” He shook his head. “You know what I mean.”
I knew what he meant.
Forty-Four
#SilencingTheLamb #GirlsWhoMakeBoysCry
In Julia Pinkerton, Teen Detective season six, episode seven, “Cell Block Kango,” Julia had to question a notorious exotic animal trainer. He’d been arrested for training his non-human accomplices — poodles, falcons, and a kangaroo — to aid him in a string of cat burglaries. Ironically, no cats. At the jail, they had the usual visitation scene. A row of windows separated into carrels. Julia Pinkerton and Cedric Pound carried on a dialogue through the plexiglass in a PG-13 homage to The Silence of the Lambs.
Mentally, I had prepared to speak calmly on the phone and give Roger my Julia Pinkerton via Clarice Starling private investigator poker face through the plexiglass wall. If Roger refused to give me the information I wanted, I would hammer on the plexiglass with the phone and tell him to “wise up.”
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