She hung up.
Shane was petting Boo-Boo. “We need to do the same. Find a place to hole up while we figure this out. And what are we going to do with the pup here?”
“Ah, another reason I love you. Thanks for remembering. Addie has a pet sitter upstairs who’s always delighted to take Boo-Boo at a moment’s notice.”
Shane began to pick up some of Boo-Boo’s toys, then stopped cold. “Are we being crazy, Holly? Are we giving them too much credit? They’re not the NSA.”
“Addie’s very words and I will repeat my response. They had your place of residence as Matthews within hours of identifying you. They could easily have found out about Crimson’s peanut allergy and arranged her accident. They killed Rob. They killed me. They thought they’d killed you. They’re determined.”
“So we have to be just as determined and smarter to put an end to all this. Okay. Let’s get Boo-Boo upstairs, then find a hotel. I learned a long time ago how to hide. Those lessons are going to come in handy once again.”
“Agreed. And, Shane, I do recall you have a fiery temper at times and your first inclination is to smash some heads in, but once we’re holed up, I have to be the one who does the investigating outside.”
He started to dispute the plan but I stopped him before he had a chance to say a word. “No arguing. I can’t be seen. You can. Don’t worry about impressing me with your heroism. Yes, you’re big and brave. But let me do something for you for a change.”
Shane muttered, “I hate when you’re right. Fine. So, what are you plotting?”
“I have an evil plan.”
“Yeah? How evil?”
“You, Shane Halloran, are going to call Wynn Davenport, Derek Fergus, Chandra Petrie, and Rick Sueng Tan from an outside line. Shock them all by announcing you’re alive. Then set up a meeting someplace; tell them you’re being hunted and the reason has to do with Rob’s play.”
“Then what?”
“You call and get a conversation going which will hopefully lead to some answers. I’ll be cleverly disguised as a ghost and overhear all. You will be as far away as possible. We can arrange for you to teleconference or Skype or whatever works best so the right questions get asked.”
“Skype, huh? Look who joined the twenty-first century. I’m impressed.”
“Thank you, thank you. I’m a quick study. And Addie’s a good teacher.”
“What if this little chat doesn’t work and we’re left with no clues and four people who now know I’m alive and well?”
“Then we go to Plan B.”
“What’s Plan B?”
“No idea. But I refuse to believe I got sent back only to watch you be murdered. I also refuse to believe you were called back to New York for no reason. There’s a purpose in all of this and when the time comes I’ll do whatever it takes to prevent anyone else from being killed and avenge Rob’s death—and my own. Justice for all.”
“Well, darlin’, it sounds noble and heroic and bloody damned fine. I hope to hell it works.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Shane and I gathered all of Boo-Boo’s toys, food, and dishes. She didn’t have a crate or a basket, which made the load a bit lighter. During the day, Boo-Boo made the couch or the rocking chair her home. She’d been dividing her time at night between my room and Addie’s, although last night the disloyal little mutt had chosen to stay with Shane. Who could blame her?
Shane called Melissa, the pet sitter, whose number was on Addie’s inked-in urgent list next to the kitchen phone. He told her there was an emergency and Addie couldn’t make it home for several days. Work related was the lie. Then he had to reassure Melissa the emergency wasn’t because Addie was laid up in a hospital about to have surgery or recovering from a fall in the subway. Once that was cleared up (well, for the most part) Melissa told him she’d be thrilled to take Boo-Boo for whatever length of stay was needed.
Shane destroyed the contact info, in case Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumber came snooping around the place, and delivered Boo-Boo and her supplies upstairs.
“Melissa is going to get a whopping great tip if Addie and I live through this,” he said when he came back down. “She was a mite curious as to why I brought photos of Addie and Boo-Boo and every toy the dog owned as well.”
“And you said?”
“I told her Addie had received threats about someone dognapping the mutt. I suggested she lie if someone approached her looking to contact Addie. Say it was Boo-Boo’s sister from the same litter or something.”
“I like it. Was she okay with that?”
“After she calmed down she not only agreed, she put a different collar on the pup. Just in case.”
“Melissa’s a sweetheart. Yep. A huge tip is in order. At least we won’t have to worry about an innocent pup getting hurt.”
“So, where do ya want to go, then? And are you at Addie’s computer? I do believe I see a mouse moving.”
“You do. I’m about to check for someplace close where we can hide. Um. Yonkers? Mount Vernon? White Plains? Scarsdale? Something on the Metro North line we can get to without spending an hour or more on the train.”
“Tarrytown.”
“What?”
“Yeah. I called my friend Ben before I left Sydney. Ben helped me hide out back in ’73. So there’s no need to search for a hotel.”
“I’m not. I’m clearing all the history and emails from Addie’s computer starting from the day I dropped in. If this team does manage to break in, I don’t want any trail of our searches online.”
Shane’s tone was one of admiration. “I’m impressed with your sudden tech savvy. Where did you get the idea?”
I finished deleting Addie’s search history from her browser, erased any bookmarks regarding Shane, Trapped in the Basement, or the deaths of Rob Stutzgraft, Crimson Cloverly, and Holly Malone, but left all the links pertinent to her job so it wouldn’t seem as if someone was trying to hide information. I shut down the desktop computer. It was password protected, which should also be a deterrent to any snoops.
I answered Shane’s question. “The idea to delete? Simple. DVDs. Enemy of the State. Three Days of the Condor. The entire Bourne trilogy…”
“Wow. You really did watch the most important films of the last forty years.”
“And apparently absorbed more tips on espionage stuff than I realized.”
Shane started laughing. “My own little superspy. I suppose I should have paid more attention to a film script Wynn sent me to look over in ’71. The lead was an ordinary chap who got caught up in some big espionage deal with Russia and had to go into hiding. At the time I was offered the part I told myself it was the most ridiculous plot imaginable. Now it seems tame.”
We spent the next half hour gathering the things we needed for going on the run. I found a hat I remembered belonged to my dad, one of his work jackets, and a pair of old black-rimmed frames without the lenses in them all tucked in the back of the hall closet. I didn’t know why Addie’d kept these but it was nice to find a disguise in case Shane needed one.
I grabbed Addie’s keys from a drawer in the kitchen, and we headed down to the lobby. As we rounded the corner, I hissed, “Stop!” at Shane in a stage whisper.
He stopped. “What?”
“Déjà vu again.”
“Elaborate?”
“I have a feeling someone’s here. The guys who were at your place earlier—I’m almost positive they’re at the front door. Hang on a sec.”
I cautiously peered into the lobby. “Damn! I hate being right! They’re trying to pick the lock.”
Shane glanced around. “Do the stairs lead to the basement or is it elevator access only?”
“Stairs, too. Great idea. I’m right behind you.”
Shane and I ran down to the basement, which housed the laundry facilities but also led to both the b
uilding’s courtyard and a long hall connecting our building, A, with its sister, B, on the opposite end.
We didn’t speak until we were in the basement of Building B. The dryers in B were arranged across from small windows so we should be able to see the thugs exit.
“I have to hand it to you for your timely premonition. And hand it to them for efficiency. We were at Addie’s less than two hours before they showed up,” Shane said with a mix of amazement and anger.
“Yeah. Things are moving fast. I guess we need to do the same. Should we set up the big meeting for this evening? Call everyone now before heading to Tarrytown?”
Shane sank down onto a bench in front of the industrial-sized dryer and pulled his cell out of the duffel bag I’d given him. “Do you have the numbers? I can save some time and let our two goons get some distance from here before we venture out.”
“Good idea.” I handed him a small paper. “I didn’t print them out. My paranoia has reached new heights.”
“Are we putting these folks in danger, then? I don’t want to be responsible for anyone getting hurt,” Shane said.
“Ten to one they’re already in danger, as is anyone connected with the play. We’re actually doing them a favor warning them.”
“Terrible way to put it, but I get it. Okay. End of Jordan Matthews. Where are we meeting?”
“What about O’Bannion’s?”
“Makes sense. It’s close to the theatre. You and Rob met there more than anywhere else to work on his script.”
“I didn’t actually remember that. I only thought of it because I noticed it the day I followed you.”
“O’Bannion’s it is, then.” He quietly added, “Holly, you and I made some memories there as well, but we’ll talk about those later. Damn! I wish I could go with you. I could use a few pints right now.”
“I’m sure there’s a pub in Tarrytown.”
“I’d rather be hoisting a brew with you.” He grinned. “As I recall, you weren’t big on beer or ale. Far more keen on those foo-foo drinks like mai tais and margaritas.”
I quietly said, “I’d gladly try whatever concoction you wanted if it meant we could be together.”
Shane reached out for me. I took his hand and squeezed as hard as I could.
“Shane,” I whispered. “I see our stalkers leaving Building A. They must not have figured out B is connected. At least not yet. So we’re safe for a while.”
“Good. Time to get to work.”
Shane called Chandra, Wynn, Rick, and Derek. I was a bit surprised that they all answered and were in the area. Each one expressed astonishment and elation hearing that Shane was alive and back in Manhattan. They also agreed to meet, although there was some confusion as to why Shane needed to get this particular group together, and with such urgency.
Shane made a face. “Well, there’s four people I just freaked out. Damn. This keeps getting stranger and stranger.” He took a deep breath. “Okay, luv, I guess it’s time I’m off to Tarrytown.”
I gave him Addie’s keys. “I’ll head down to O’Bannion’s and find an empty spot near our buddies. You’re calling Wynn and starting an interesting conversation once you’re sure all the players are there, right?”
“You’d best believe it.”
“I suppose we need to buy some burner phones before all this goes down? I saw that in a movie, too. I can’t waltz into a store and plunk down any cash but we need to have a way to stay in touch and we can’t involve your friend’s landline or your old cell phone.”
“Which we’ll also need to dump somewhere.” Shane then remarked with much admiration, “You really are turnin’ into the spy of the century, aren’t you? Every agency with initials would hire you in an instant. Hell, you could infiltrate every group needin’ infiltration and never be spotted. See? There are perks to being a ghost!”
We peeked out of Building B’s courtyard gate, which led to a sidewalk. I went out first and took a good look around, then popped back inside. “I didn’t see our bad guys, so we should be good to go.”
We hurried toward the park then cut through the trails to get to the other side. The garage where we’d parked Addie’s car was across the street from several shops, including a wireless phone store. Shane took the opportunity to make some purchases while I kept lookout.
“Any problems?” I asked him.
“Well, when I asked for so many phones I got one of those ‘are you a drug dealer?’ looks—even at my age—but I told the kid behind the counter my five grandkids each needed a phone. How many do you want?”
“Just one.”
We headed toward the garage. “Do you want me to drive you down to the pub?”
“Much as I would love to keep your company, I don’t want you anywhere near the pub before this meeting. I’ll take the train. Please, just get to Tarrytown and stay safe.” I gave him what passed for a hug. “I love you so much, and if we stay here any longer I’ll just lose it and suggest we both hide out in Australia for the rest of our lives. Well, your life.”
Shane’s voice cracked. “I love you too. And I’d rather have you near me as a wisp of a spirit than lose you for good.”
I sniffed. “I agree. But Rob and Crimson deserve justice and Addie shouldn’t live in fear for the rest of her life. You’ve been hiding out for far too long, Shane. It’s time to make a stand. Go, please. Before either of us caves to the selfish side.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
I snuck inside O’Bannion’s behind a patron who opened the door wide enough for me to slip by. The pub wasn’t crowded and I was able to slide into a small booth near the phones and restroom. I figured it would most likely remain empty due to its cracked and peeling ancient vinyl seats.
I was nervous. Nervous the four people Shane had called wouldn’t show up. Nervous they would show up. Nervous about the call Shane would make in an effort to uncover our killer’s identify. Nervous that no helpful information would be forthcoming. Nervous because one of these four might be a murderer. Nervous that none of them were. No one was immune from suspicion.
I needed to stop worrying. We were making progress. It was vital for me to keep Shane safe and everyone else blissfully unaware of our motives.
The bartender nodded at the new customers and then changed the CD playlist to a set of “oldies”. Only they weren’t old to me. They were the songs I’d heard every day on my stereo and the radio and right here at O’Bannion’s forty years ago. I wasn’t paying a lot of attention until he cranked up the volume on one of my favorites—“Nights in White Satin”.
I closed my eyes—and remembered.
April 1973
“I have good news and bad news, Holly luv.” Shane leaned down and kissed me.
I tensed. “Do I need to order another Irish coffee? A large this time?”
“Now, darlin’. I said bad and good. Hear me out before you start tossing scones at me. You’ve a deadly aim, lass. The Yankees could use you as a relief pitcher.”
“Oh, jeez. Go ahead and spill. When you start shoveling the blarney, I know I’m not going to be thrilled.”
Shane slid into a seat across from me. He’d gotten his ale from Davey the minute he stepped inside the pub and now took a large swig. “The good news is Wynn went to the ends of the earth and found another decent movie script for me.”
“Not some Shaft-style cop or pimp?”
“Not even a gladiator in sandals whackin’ away at some poor lion. I’ll play a lawyer who runs afoul of the mob. It’s like a mystery within a mystery, and the bonus is the director is someone I’ve wanted to work with for years.”
“Shane, that’s fantastic! So what’s the problem?” I asked.
“The bad news is it’s pretty much settled Rob’s play isn’t going up this year.”
“Why? Are you going to have to bow out of the play? Because of this movie? S
hane, you can’t do that to Rob and to everyone. You’re the glue for Basement. Have you signed a contract for the film yet?” I wasn’t pleased and Shane knew it.
Shane took another swig. I waved at Davey to freshen up my coffee, preferably with an extra shot of whiskey. “Holly, you need to listen to me for a second and hold off tossing what’s left of your drink in my face before believin’ I’m some kind of disloyal quitter. The play and the movie have nothing to do with one another. Derek called me yesterday to let me know he still hasn’t received a script from Rob and he’s lost the final backer. It’s April. Derek can’t keep postponing the opening. We’ve only had one cast meeting since this began, and, as you recall, we had to cancel rehearsal after Rob showed up without scripts. Rob’s practically been in hiding since he was mugged, and that was nearly three months ago. People have gone on to other projects. It’s time. Unless you’ve heard from Rob and he’s got something solid to show? As in today?”
I was furious. “Trust Wynn to get you out of anything controversial. Hell, first he sent you to California for some film. I wouldn’t put it past him to have mugged Rob himself just to sabotage everything.”
“Holly. Hon, you’re still not listening. Look at it from everyone else’s point of view. I mean, I’ve done a couple of shows that started as workshops. They were thin. Shoot, I did a musical once where the songs were written before the playbook. Talk about backwards! But Basement is almost non-existent. And while I agree that Rob is brilliant and the little we’ve seen is fantastic, there’s not enough there to persuade a group of poor actors to stick to it. It’s time to face this as the end. At least for another year or so.”
“But, Shane, Rob and I are supposed to meet tomorrow to discuss the script. He’s close to a final product. Really.”
“Well, Rob’s now been told about the finances. I’m sure he plans to tell you it’s time to pack it in.” Shane took my hand in his. I did not pull away. “Look, darlin’, this could be a good thing. The two of you will have time to finish the script without a deadline. In the meantime I can do the movie, and in a year or two, with any luck, we can get Basement up and running again. If Wynn can get the salary he’s asking for me for the film, I’ll help with production costs. Okay?”
Scarecrow’s Dream Page 19