Desperate Measures

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Desperate Measures Page 30

by Fern Michaels


  “What about all those sleazebags your office represents?”

  “Those sleazebags, as you call them, are less than one percent of our clients. Sure, I know members of the crime families. Hell, your father and I went to school with them. I call them by name, they call me by name. They do what they do for a living, and I do what I do.” Leo paused for a moment and eyed his nephew speculatively. “Are you trying to find out from me if there’s a way I can intervene on your behalf?” he asked quietly. “Is that where this is going?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” Pete brought him up to date on the past several weeks.

  “My advice is to wait it out, let the authorities do their job, and you, Peter, sit back and wait. It’s the only sensible, logical, reasonable thing to do. To do anything else would be very foolhardy.”

  “I haven’t had the time to go back and read up on what happened. The detective I hired gave me highlights, enough to go on. How good a case do the authorities have? How long before it comes to trial?”

  “From what I’ve read and heard, they have a very good case. My best guess would be two years before this case sees a courtroom, maybe three. They can’t afford to make any mistakes.”

  “Is this where you tell me to keep busy, work my ass off and the three years will go by like lightning?”

  “In a manner of speaking. You cannot penetrate the Witness Protection Program, Peter. It’s never been done.”

  “There was a tap on my phone.”

  Leo made an ugly sound in his throat. “There’s been one on my phone for years. The feds are experts at things like that. Don’t pay any attention to it. I don’t. When you don’t do anything wrong, they can’t do anything to you. That alone should answer any questions you have about me. Now, how about those pickled eggs?”

  “My mother used to make pickled eggs, but only on Easter.”

  “I know. That’s where I acquired the taste. I make them every week. I’m not supposed to eat them. Yolks are bad for you. When it comes right down to it, nothing’s good for you. Sex is up for grabs, smoking will kill you, alcohol will rot your liver, eggs will bust your veins, and cake and pie will blow your heart right out of your chest. You know what I say to all those greedy doctors? I say fuck you, if I’m meant to die, then I’ll die. When God’s ready for me, I’ll go, kicking and scratching, but not eating bean curd and brussels sprouts. Jesus, the gas alone can kill you.”

  Pete laughed, and his uncle smiled in response, his face merry and relaxed.

  His uncle, Pete noticed afterward, was at home in the kitchen, setting fine china on place mats, folding napkins, setting the bowls of food in two separate microwave ovens. “I like things to be ready all at the same time,” Leo said, pointing to the four microwave ovens lined up on the counter. “It’s decadent, right?”

  Pete laughed, then changed the subject: “Tell me what you know about cattle ranching.”

  “Red meat is bad for your arteries,” Leo said, and roared with laughter. “We want to buy up as many of the ranches as we can so the Japanese can’t buy them. That’s the bottom line. The Japs are trying to buy up the ranches so they can ship the beef to Japan. We don’t want that to happen. That’s the extent of my knowledge. I’m along for the ride. My money is in the pot. You’ll make a bundle, if you can pull this off. You know, Peter, you can retire after this job. I know your contract has four months to run, but that contract also says if you are in the middle of negotiations, you’ll carry through until the deal is consummated. If I’m right on the three-year trial, you’ll finish up for the consortium, take a year off, and wait for your fiancée to come back to you. You’re young, you’re healthy, and you’re rich. Think and plan how you want to spend the rest of your days.”

  “Bell’s Beach,” Pete said without a moment’s. hesitation.

  “Now you see, that’s something to shoot for. How many of these pickled eggs do you want?”

  “Three, if you trade me your yolks for my whites.” Peter ate one of the yolks, then looked up and said, “I heard from Maddie, indirectly. She said she doesn’t need me.”

  “Give her time, Peter,” Leo replied. “No doubt she’s under a lot of strain right now. If it’s meant to be, it will be. If Maddie isn’t the one you’re meant to spend the rest of your life with, it won’t happen. Everything is ordained or preordained or something like that.”

  “Or something,” Pete said.

  “Something good came out of all of this,” Leo said shyly as they ate their eggs. “We got to know one another a little better.”

  “Yes we did. I wish I’d had the brains to come to you a long time ago. My dad was an okay guy, so was my mom. She had the sweetest smile, and she baked the best cookies in the world.”

  “Let’s drink to your parents,” Leo said, pouring wine into two fragile long-stemmed glasses.

  “Are you allowed to drink wine?”

  “No. It does something to your blood pressure. I have a whole list of things, you know, do’s and don’ts.” He held his glass aloft. “I think you should make the toast, Peter.”

  “To my mom and dad and Bell’s Beach.”

  “Tell me about that surfboard and Bell’s Beach.”

  “It was my father’s dream. I made it my dream. I know as much about surfing as you know about cattle ranching. I’ll take that year you spoke of to learn while I wait for Maddie, and hope she changes her mind about me. I can make the dream come true. If I want to. Sometimes it’s better to just dream. I guess it’s the same principle as saying, be careful of what you wish for because you might get it. We can talk about Bell’s Beach and the surfboard another time.”

  “Yes,” Leo said sadly. “Another time.”

  Pete was on his way back to the city a little after two o’clock. His handshake was firm and hard when he said good-bye at the door of Leo’s mansion. Pete blinked when Leo said, “Son, don’t let the Japanese get the upper hand on this deal. Whatever it takes is what we’ll pay. The little cruds already own half of Hawaii if not all of it.”

  “Maybe we should spread out. Montana isn’t the only state that ranches. If they have a foothold, they’ll spread out. It may pay us to beat them to the punch. Let me do a little research. I’ll be in touch in a few days.”

  “In the meantime, I’ll see if there’s anything I can find out about Maddie for you. I have a few friends who have a few friends who are owed favors. No promises, Peter.”

  “I understand. Do what you can.”

  “I appreciate this visit, Peter. I hope we can do it again soon. Drive carefully, there are a lot of drunks out there. This is a holiday weekend.”

  “Do you know what I liked best about this visit?” Pete called over his shoulder.

  “What?” Leo said, drawing in his breath.

  “I stuck you with the dishes!”

  Leo laughed so hard his eyes watered. He watched his nephew until his car wound its way down to the long, meandering road that led to the gate of the estate.

  “I think,” Leo murmured, “this was one of the nicest times in my life.”

  Annie was waiting for Pete when he returned to the apartment. She was dressed in pink slacks and a pink and white pullover. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and tied with a pink, checkered ribbon. A wicker picnic basket was open on the kitchen table. He recognized the basket as the one the Range Rover people gave him when he bought the heavy-duty truck. He’d shoved it in the hall closet and forgot about it.

  “Things slowed down around one o’clock,” Annie said, “so I left the shop in charge of Ada. I came home and made all this food.” She pointed to potato salad, fried chicken, boiled eggs, and several cheese balls decorated with green peppers, bits of bacon, and finely minced onion. “If you’re ready to go, I can leave the dishes to soak. Where did you go?” she asked casually.

  “I’m ready. I say let the dishes soak. I went out to visit my uncle and stayed for lunch. We had a long talk. Cleared a lot of stale air that’s been hovering over us for years. We part
ed with a better understanding of one another.”

  “Then let’s hit the road,” Annie said, snapping the lid shut on the picnic basket. “Where to, Mr. Sorenson?”

  “Darien. It’s not that far. I told the realtor I was backing out of the house deal in Stamford. I lost my deposit, but that’s okay. That house would haunt me. When Maddie gets back—if she gets back—we can look into that again. In the meantime I’m going to check out this house in Darien. It’s on a lake, has a dock, all that good stuff. Four bedrooms, two fireplaces, gorgeous kitchen—or so I’m told—great landscaping, and the price is right. Darien isn’t that far from New York, so it will be ideal for me when I get back from a trip. You need to bring your car down here, and then you can drive up on the weekends if you want to get out of the city.”

  “Sounds wonderful,” Annie said lightly. “Maybe I can get one of my friends to drive it down next weekend.”

  “Garage space is expensive,” Pete said, reaching for the picnic basket.

  “Everything in this town is expensive. Now might be a good time for me to tell you I can’t afford to sublet this apartment. It’s out of my reach. I’ll look for something more reasonable.”

  Pete stopped in his tracks. “We never discussed the rent, so how do you know it’s out of your reach?”

  Annie grew flustered. “Well, I just assumed . . . you did tell me you were paying twenty-seven hundred a few years ago. That’s outrageous, Pete. I might even move to the Jersey side and perhaps buy a house of my own. I don’t want to give up my apartment back in Boston, in case Maddie comes back. I don’t want to pay two rents, no matter how much I’m making. I’d rather build equity someplace and know it’s mine. I’m surprised you never wanted to buy before this.”

  “I did. I do. It’s just that I travel so much. Leaving a house empty for long periods isn’t good. I’m not home that much, so apartment living is fine for me.”

  “I like all those things, raking leaves, planting flowers, trimming the hedges, mowing the grass. I like anything to do with the outdoors. Maybe it’s because I grew up doing things with my parents. We all had our chores, and yard work was part of it. Hey, I’m ready, the dishes are soaking. I feel like I’m skipping out on something really important.”

  “Soaking dishes?” Pete said, a stupid look on his face.

  “Uh-huh.” They both laughed about it on the way down to the first floor.

  The trip was made in companionable silence for the most part. The radio played softly, mostly romantic tunes of the fifties. Annie felt excited, buoyant. She was going to spend the weekend with Pete and share a picnic supper. She was going to be part of his decision on the house in Darien.

  They were almost to the Darien turnoff when Annie said, “Are you okay with the . . . with Maddie’s situation?”

  “No,” Pete answered curtly, “but I’ll live with it. I really don’t want to discuss Maddie, Annie.”

  “Do you mean forever . . . or just now?”

  “For as long as she’s away. Don’t bring her up. It sounds corny to say it hurts too much, but that’s the way it is. And Annie, about the rent, I never expected you to pay the full amount. Why don’t you come up with a reasonable figure, what you can afford, and I’ll pay the difference. I know you’ll take care of my things and treat the apartment like it was your own. That’s important to me. I’ll clear out all my personal things so they won’t be in your way. Is that okay with you?”

  “Well, sure. What about Maddie’s things?” she asked carefully.

  “What about them?”

  “Well, will you take them with you?”

  “I guess what you’re saying is you want me to take them out of the apartment. Okay, I’ll take them, if you pack them up for me. I could put them in storage in the basement I suppose.”

  “Oh, Pete, don’t do that. People only store things in the basement when they . . . don’t want them or don’t know where else to put them. It’s okay, I can keep them. I’ll be using the main bedroom, so I won’t need to use that spare closet.”

  Pete made a funny sound in his throat. “You have enough junk to sink a ship. I’ll take them. It’s settled,” he said firmly. “Keep your eye peeled for Route 124. The directions are in the glove compartment. Read them off to me.”

  After she read, Pete said, “Annie, do you remember the time we left the campus at one o’clock in the afternoon to go to that strange woodland wedding of those two kookie undergrads and didn’t get there till nine o’clock at night and then got so hopelessly lost we had to sleep in the car?”

  Annie laughed. “I remember. You, Mister Know-it-all, refused to ask for directions. Do you remember the time we went ice skating and I broke my ankle and you had to carry me for two miles when the car wouldn’t start?”

  “God, of course I remember, my back still aches.” Pete chuckled.

  They played Do You Remember until Pete steered the Rover onto the overgrown shale road that led to the lake house. Annie gasped. “This is beautiful. Are we going to be able to see inside?”

  “The realtor said she’d leave the key under the mat. She’s going to a family party today. She said all the people around here are nice and not to worry about putting the key back under the mat when we finish. She’ll pick it up tomorrow. I don’t think she’ll mind if we picnic on the dock.”

  When they got out of the car, Annie looked around, her eyes full of awe. “Pete Sorenson, do you have any idea how lucky you are that you can buy a house like this? I would kill to be able to do what you’re doing.” She walked around the side of the house, exclaiming over this and that, things Pete wouldn’t take a second look at. “Hollyhocks!” he heard her shriek happily.

  Pete walked down to the boathouse. He’d get a cabin cruiser and dock it at a harbor on the Long Island Sound, he thought. And maybe a sailboat for this lake.

  “Let’s go inside.” Annie chortled gleefully. “Oh, I can’t wait to see the kitchen and the bathrooms. Do you know, Pete, that almost all the houses sold are bought because of the kitchen, the bathroom, and fireplaces? I read that. That’s what a woman looks at. What do men look at?”

  “The amount of the mortgage, the cellar, the roof, the drains.”

  “How boring. Come on, I’m dying to see the inside.” Inside the house, they went their separate ways, Annie to the kitchen, Pete to the basement. They met later in the wide central foyer.

  Pete stared at Annie. He’d never seen so much animation on her face before. “I just love this house. Pete, you’re going to be sooooo happy here. The kitchen is a dream, an absolute dream. God, you could throw some parties here, I can tell you that. Did you say there’s five thousand square feet?” Pete nodded. “Lordy, lordy,” Annie exclaimed as she scampered up the circular, oak stairway. Pete laughed as he heard her shout, “Come see this, you aren’t going to believe it! Cedar closets. A Jacuzzi! Triple vanities! A fireplace in the master bedroom! An office, Pete, you lucky stiff! A dressing room! God, I cannot believe this. Tell me you’re buying this house,” she yelled, leaning over the banister on the second floor. “Come up here, you dodo, and look at everything.”

  “I saw the basement. The roof looks good. The boathouse appears to be in good shape. I think I’ll buy a boat,” Pete said, climbing up the circular stairway. “It’s nice,” he said, looking around.

  “Can you see yourself living here, Pete? I can see you living here. Tell me you’re going to buy it.”

  “I guess so. Do you think it’s a good buy at $850,000?”

  “In today’s market? Absolutely! Snatch it up. If you can afford it. I closed deals on houses that cost more than this and weren’t half as nice. What are the taxes?”

  Pete shrugged. “Is it a good investment, Annie, in your opinion?”

  “You can’t go wrong with property, Pete. It will only rise in value at some point. You’re on water. Water always increases the value of a house.”

  “Do you think Maddie would . . . is it a woman’s house?”

  Annie�
��s heart skipped a beat. “Yes, Pete. Who are you going to get to decorate it?”

  “The woman who did my apartment, I guess. I don’t know anything about decorations and buying furniture.”

  “Pete, can I do it? I know your likes and dislikes. I’ll check everything with you first, though. I can do it on Sundays. I mean I can drive up here or I can commute while the work is in progress. I’ll do a super job for you. You liked what I did with my apartment, and I furnished it on a shoestring and from garage sales. When are you leaving for your business trip?”

  “Soon,” Pete said vaguely, his eyes wandering around the huge first floor of the house. “I like everything open, and the half walls. I like to be able to see outdoors.”

  “You can go skating when the lake freezes in the winter,” Annie said.

  “Okay, I’ll buy it, and yes, you can decorate it. If, and this is a big if, you aren’t bogged down with the store and your own life.”

  She wanted to say, What life? But she didn’t. “I can handle it.”

  “Okay, we have a deal. I’ll call the realtor tomorrow and get things moving.”

  Annie moved off to make a second tour of the house. Pete stared into space. Would Maddie like this house? Would she be as excited as Annie was? Annie hadn’t said one thing about who was to clean it, and she hadn’t brought up the business of a maid or a housekeeper. He remembered Maddie’s excitement about hiring help for the Stamford house. She’d liked it, but . . . He tried to remember what she’d said, if anything, about decorating the house. It was not a move-in-with-your-toothbrush kind of house.

  He thought about Maddie then, the way he’d thought of her every day since returning from Hong Kong. She didn’t need him anymore. He’d failed her in the worst possible way, and now she didn’t need him. The only thing he should be concerned about, according to Jakes, was Maddie’s safety. His face turned stubborn. “What the hell am I supposed to do in the meantime?” he snarled as he made his way out to the redwood deck. Keep busy, Leo said. As if that was the answer to life’s problems. Maybe in a way it was, he thought glumly. His shoulders started to slump, and then straightened when he heard Annie move into the kitchen.

 

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