by Laura Kenner
“Three. Landrum. The hotel only charged him $180. You made him pay twelve grand.” Will crossed his arms. “You want more names?”
Raymond’s face contorted with a venomous sneer. “You’ll never convince anybody that you weren’t a part of it. You’re the one who used the video recorder, took the pictures, stole the receipt. I couldn’t have done it…without you.”
Will parried the threat with a smile. “I’ll admit you have your faults, but endless greed doesn’t seem to be one of them. That’s where most blackmailers make their mistakes. Once they get the taste of extortion money, they don’t know when to stop squeezing. But you were logical, figuring out how much money each victim could honestly afford before they started getting desperate. But Celia wasn’t as careful, was she?”
Will flipped the mechanism that held the nearest side-rail in place. As the metal railing lowered, it pulled Raymond’s manacled wrist down, putting him in an awkwardly vulnerable position. Will leaned closer and Raymond pushed back, trying to increase the gulf between them.
“What are you talking about? I never met Celia until night before last.”
Will pressed on, ignoring Raymond’s denial. “Face it, Celia had no self-control. She was reckless, asking for too much money, approaching the wrong people. She even tried to squeeze money out of a retired judge over a small technicality in one of his cases.”
Raymond forgot about trying to ease his position as he turned his rapt and fearful attention to Will. “You’re crazy! I didn’t know her, I tell you.”
“Stop lying, Bergeron. We know all about your Friday-night arrangements with Celia, your standing reservation at the hotel. But better than that, the police know all about it. Is that where she learned all about your blackmailing schemes? During pillow talk?”
Raymond blanched.
“I bet she even tried to hit up some of your victims, didn’t she? That had to upset your sense of order and balance. You knew to the penny how much you could milk out of them, but her unreasonable demands upset the balance of things. It even made some of your victims think twice about paying you.”
Raymond narrowed his eyes, then had the audacity to smile. “Okay…so you would have made a good trial lawyer. I was wrong. Sue me.” He actually laughed.
Will took a deep breath. “Are we through playing these macho lawyer games?”
Raymond nodded. “Yeah. I realize I’m in an awkward position.” He glanced down at his captured wrist. “In more ways than one. Cards on the table, okay?”
Will raised the railing back into place. “Okay.”
Raymond made a point of not looking at Sara. “I was blackmailing some of my clients’ spouses. Not all, just some. And only some of those cases ended up with money going directly into my pocket. Most of the time, I used the information that you gave me to help stabilize my clients’ positions when it came to alimony, child support or property division. You know—‘Either go with this settlement or I’ll show the wife the video and this’ll turn from a simple divorce into a nightmare.’ Every once in a while, I’d keep the money as a sort of nuisance fee.”
“How altruistic of you.”
Raymond shrugged. “Divorce is a messy business. If I couldn’t simplify it with a little judicial blackmailing, I figured I should get something extra for my efforts. Now, Celia…she didn’t care what she received from blackmailing someone. She simply did it for the thrill of seeing people dance to her tune.”
“What do you mean?”
“She liked to know things about people, to be able to poke her fingers in their soft spots and watch them squirm. Yeah, she tried to blackmail Mike Russell, but he called her bluff. But a little failure didn’t slow her down. She kept on plugging, kept on sticking her nose in where it didn’t belong. You know what they say about curiosity killing the cat….”
“Then you know who killed her?”
Raymond shot both of them an odd stare. “I thought I knew…at first.”
It took her a moment to comprehend the meaning of his actions. “You mean…you really thought I shot h-her?” Sara couldn’t bring herself to say Celia’s name.
He nodded reluctantly. “You know what they say about a woman scorned. It seemed to make sense at the time. You would have been the person most likely to get upset that Celia and I were…together….”
Celia and I…together. The words were like fingernails on a chalkboard, echoing through Sara’s mind. He’d said them so easily, without even a fragment of guilt. But in his warped vocabulary, “together” had a much broader meaning.
She realized she must have made a noise because Raymond looked up at her closely for the first time.
“Uh…Celia and I…” His voice faded out for a moment and he turned an unattractive shade of red. He stuttered, stammered and began to sweat Sara realized that, perhaps for the first time in his life, he was having to deal with real guilt, shame and maybe even a degree of humiliation.
If nothing else, Sara got some puerile satisfaction out of watching him wrestle with his newly discovered conscience.
“After I tried to strangle her for betraying me, I realized that I was the one who was betraying you. When I left the hotel room, I went walking, trying to collect my thoughts—” he turned his wan stare toward Sara” “—trying to figure out what I had to do to salvage our relationship. I still love you, Sara.”
Sara swallowed hard. She understood exactly what he was doing. He knew which strings to pluck, where the cracks were in her heart. He was a master manipulator, but she was no longer his willing puppet. She crossed her arms and stared at him, meeting his impassioned gaze with her icy one. “Can the crap and tell us what happened.”
Both the battle and the war were lost and he knew it. He continued his story, telling it to the wall rather than make eye contact with her or Will.
“When I finally got back to the hotel, to end everything with her, I was too late. She was dead. It wasn’t that hard to convince myself I’d done it.” He pushed back into his pillow. “I panicked, I ran. Simple as that.”
“And ended up lying in your own puke in the middle of a cheap hotel room. Cut to the chase, Bergeron. Which one of your extortion victims slipped you the poison?”
Raymond’s gaze narrowed. “I thought you weren’t going to play the tough-guy role anymore.”
“I’m not playing. Not anymore. Whoever you’ve pissed off isn’t stopping with you. This cancer is spreading. My office has been destroyed and Sara was almost killed in the process. Someone broke into both our houses.” Will took a menacing step toward the bed. “You and Celia must have jerked one string too many. Who is it? What are they looking for?”
“I—I don’t know.”
Will leaned over the railing, his words almost a whisper. “We could have let you die last night, which would have simplified things considerably. But we didn’t. Who poisoned you?”
“I can’t—”
Sara took the lead. “We know you had a dinner companion last night. You ordered two meals. Only one person could have poisoned your food and you know who it is. The longer you protect them, the better chance they have of killing all of us.”
“This is your last chance, Bergeron.” Will crossed his arms. “Last chance before I turn over all your blackmailing files to the police. Tell us—”
The bedside machine began to beep and started spilling out a ribbon of paper. Raymond’s face had suddenly turned a pasty white and he clutched his chest with his free hand.
“Raymond?” Sara grabbed the bed rail. “Are you all right?”
The machine stopped its noise and he released a shaky sigh, waving off their concern. “Yeah…yeah, I’m okay. It’s over. Give me a…minute.” He took several deep breaths and some natural color returned to his features. “Okay…I’ll tell you everything—but first, I want to speak to my lawyer. We’ve got to arrange to get me out of here. I’m a sitting duck.”
Will flexed his fingers, looking as if he would like to take his frustrations out on
Raymond’s throat, again. “C’mon, you’re stalling for time. There’s a guard outside and you know you can act as your own counsel.”
Raymond shook his head. “No way. I don’t say anything until I talk to my lawyer.”
Will grabbed the phone and nearly threw it on the bed. “Then call. Now.”
Raymond picked up the receiver, then gave them a scathing look. “I’d like some privacy, if you don’t mind.”
Will grabbed Sara’s hand and pulled her out of the room. Raymond waited until the door closed before he stabbed the buttons with his forefinger. He muttered an expletive at the chirpy ringing tone that echoed through his brain.
“Hello?”
“It’s me.”
“Where are you?”
“Where do you think? In the hospital, handcuffed to the bed. That was the whole purpose of your ’special seasoning,’ wasn’t it? To get me out of the way so you could settle the case with another lawyer?”
She laughed. “It sounded like a good idea at the time…with you being a wanted criminal and all. So why are you calling?”
“Because you’re going to redeem yourself.”
“How?”
“Listen very closely….”
Sunday, late morning
“ANTTA?” WILL STOOD, gladly abandoning the sagging couch.
The thin woman who approached graced Will with a tremulous smile. “I haven’t seen you in some time, William.” She looked around nervously, lowering her voice. “Is Ray all right? Has he had any more seizures?”
Will stared at her. “You’re Bergeron’s lawyer?”
She stiffened. “I’m not strictly a divorce lawyer, you know. I’ve handled criminal cases before.”
He winced, realizing belatedly how rude he’d sounded. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean any offense. What surprises me isn’t his choice of lawyer, but your choice of client. Aren’t you on opposing sides of a couple of cases?”
“He needs my help. I can’t turn him down in his time of need.” Anita turned her attention to Sara, giving her a critical once-over. “And you are?”
Will hesitated. There was something odd in Anita’s manner. Her concern for Bergeron was admirable, if not a bit overpowering. God help them if she was another member of the Raymond Bergeron Fan Club. Will managed to pull together a polite smile. “Sara Hardaway, meet Anita Rooney. Anita and I went to law school together.”
If Sara sensed anything out of the ordinary, she didn’t let on. She stood and offered a hand, which Anita reluctantly accepted. “I’m pleased you could get here so quickly. I’m sure we all want this to end as soon as possible.”
Anita shrugged—a noncommittal answer at best. She glanced at the cop guarding the door. “Is this absolutely necessary?”
The policeman nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Will, if you’ll excuse me, my client needs me.” She pushed open the door, making sure to shut it firmly behind her.
Sara made a face at the closed door. “Is she any good?”
“She’s thorough. Conscientious. Competent.” He searched for something else positive to say.
“Those aren’t the first adjectives I think of when asked to describe a good lawyer.” Sara shook her head and sat back down. “I sure hope Raymond knows what he’s doing.”
“Me, too.”
They sat quietly for a few minutes, idle chitchat evidently on neither of their agendas. But the silence between them was a comfortable one. After a while, Will started looking for distractions to occupy his mind. The magazine selection was limited at best.
Will’s stomach began to growl, a reminder that he’d never gotten a chance to eat his complimentary hotel breakfast, which they had left in the car. He turned to Sara who had been able to find something interesting in an old magazine. “They’re probably going to be a while. You hungry?”
She nodded. “Starved.”
“Why don’t I go see if they have any vending machines around here?” Will dug into his pocket for change. “What do you want?”
She stifled a yawn. “You’d think with everything going on that I wouldn’t have a problem being sleepy, but I do. How about something with caffeine in it? Coffee, a soft drink, even a chocolate bar if you can’t find anything else.”
Will left her on the plastic couch, knowing she would be relatively safe under the watchful eye of one of Black-water’s finest It took him ten minutes to find a bank of vending machines in the hospital’s basement. Most of the machines had “This machine owes me…” sticky notes posted on them. A sympathetic orderly steered him through the maze of hallways to the cafeteria where he waited in line to get two cups of coffee and two chocolate doughnuts. By the time he found his way back to Bergeron’s floor, twenty minutes had passed.
He trudged down the hall, balancing a doughnut on top of each cup. When he turned the corner, he saw that the plastic couch was empty.
She probably went to the rest room….
Will waited five minutes. No Sara.
Sure, women take longer than men, but… He left the food on the beat-up chrome coffee table and approached the policeman standing guard at the door. “Did you see which way Ms. Hardaway went?”
“She left a couple of minutes after you did.”
“Left? She just walked off?”
“She went with the other lady, the lawyer.”
“You mean Anita’s through talking with Bergeron? Where did they go?”
The policeman shrugged. “I’m not here to keep track of the ladies.” He thumbed over his shoulder to Bergeron’s door. “I’m here to watch him.”
Will returned to the couch and stared at his cup of coffee. Where had she gone? Had Anita pulled her off to some private corner to report on Bergeron’s confession? An uneasy feeling began to sprout in the pit of his stomach. He forced himself to wait two more minutes, then another two before listening to any of the unsavory scenarios that filled his mind.
Finally, he stalked over to the policeman and pointed at the closed door. “Have you checked on him, lately?”
The man shook his head. “His lady lawyer said he wasn’t feeling well and she was going to come back later.”
Instinct, intuition, insight—no matter what name it went under—it made alarms go off in Will’s head. He shouldered open the door, catching the guard by surprise.
“Wait…you can’t just bust in….” His voice trailed away.
The handcuffs dangled from the railing of the empty bed.
Chapter Fifteen
Will slammed the elevator button with the heel of his hand. Bergeron on the loose, Sara missing—the implications were more than he was willing to consider.
Why would Bergeron take her? As a hostage? Out of revenge? What about—
He heard a familiar voice and turned in time to see Sara and Anita strolling nonchalantly out of the rest room. He grabbed Sara by the shoulders. “Are you all right?”
She looked appropriately stunned. “Uh…yes. Why?” She stiffened and peered past him to the hallway beyond. Her gaze stopped at the doorway the policeman had been guarding. “Something’s wrong.”
He nodded. “Bergeron’s disappeared.”
Anita’s eyes opened wide. “Escaped?”
Will felt a tremor course through Sara’s body. “But how?” she asked in a hushed voice. “How did he get out of the room? How did he get out of the handcuffs?”
He shrugged. “Let the police worry about how. The important thing is he’s on the run.”
“On the run,” Anita repeated in shock. She started wringing her hands. “How am I supposed to come up with a successful strategy to defend a second-degree murder charge for a client who’s on the run?” She paled. “It’s impossible, now. If you run, it’s because you’re guilty. Every jury knows that.”
Sara released a sigh and leaned forward, placing her forehead against his shoulder. “I guess he wasn’t ready to face up to what he’d done.”
Anita pivoted, wearing a look of near indignation. “You
told me in the bathroom that you believed he was innocent!”
“Of Celia’s murder, yes. But Raymond’s involved in something.. .else.”
“What?”
“He’s been—”
“Hold it.” Will stepped between them. “This isn’t the place to start a…sensitive discussion. I think we ought to find somewhere else to talk. I think Bergeron ran because he’s scared. He has the right idea, you know. He’s seeking higher ground and so should we.”
“But—”
“I’m going to take you someplace safe where you can brief Anita on what’s going on and while you’re doing that I’ll get the files. The sooner I put all the evidence in Trainor’s hands, the safer we’ll be.”
“You’re not going anywhere without me.”
“Yes, I am, Sara. And you know I’m right. This is the best way to cover all our bases.”
“Why can’t we stay here?”
“I don’t want you anywhere near this hospital. He might still be hanging around.”
Anita bristled. “I thought we agreed that Raymond’s not the murderer.”
“He isn’t, but I don’t want take any chances that the murderer might come here looking for him.”
“But—”
“But nothing.” Will consulted his watch. Mimi would be up by now. “C’mon.” He grabbed Sara by the hand and tugged her toward the pay phone across from the nurses’ station.
Sara wanted to balk. She wanted to dig in her heels and remind him that the “Me Strong Man” routine was a thing of the past. But beneath his mask of fierce protector, she saw his level of anxiety and it both alarmed and touched her. Even though her strongest instincts were saying, He’s wrong, a small voice of reason argued, What if he’s right?
She and Anita exchanged looks as he held a frantic discussion with his secretary.
He hung up the phone. “Okay…it’s settled. Mimi lives with her boyfriend in one of those security apartments in Crystal City.” He paused. “It’s safe, it’s fairly close by, and no one would know to look for you there. After I get the files and turn them over to Trainor, I’ll come get you and we’ll figure out what to do from there. Okay?” His face and voice softened. “I just want to make sure you’re safe. I…care about you.”