by Sharon Sala
“Oh my!” Abernathy looked closer at Mac. “Are you an officer of the law?”
“Not now, sir. But I was. I own and operate my own private security business. I’m acting as a bodyguard for Miss Bennett until all this has been resolved.”
“I should think so,” Charles said, then took Caitlin’s hand.
“Your father would have hired more than one bodyguard,” he said softly.
Caitlin smiled. “Mac wasn’t hired, Mr. Abernathy. He’s with me because he chooses to be.”
“Ah…so that’s the way it is,” he said, eyeing Mac even more closely.
“Look, Mr. Abernathy, the reason I’m here is that we’re grasping at straws. We have no leads as to the killer’s identity, but there’s some speculation that his motive could be related to my father’s past, rather than my books.”
All of a sudden the old man grew still.
“I can’t talk about your father’s private affairs,” he said gruffly.
Caitlin dropped her head in defeat, but Mac wasn’t ready to quit.
“Please, Mr. Abernathy. You don’t understand. He’s not just killing women, he’s butchering them.”
“He killed Juanita Delarosa so she couldn’t talk to us,” Caitlin added. “No one knows we’re here. I told no one, not even the police, that you even exist. For all they know, Bernstein and Stella have always represented us.”
Charles waved away her concerns. “Oh, I don’t care about safety. I’ve far outlived my time as it is.” Then he shook his head in disbelief. “Poor Juanita. I remember her well.” He looked at Mac with a piercing gaze, quite startling in an old man’s face. “Did she suffer?”
“Yes.”
He leaned back in his wheelchair and closed his eyes. As they sat, awaiting his next move, a single tear rolled down his face. When he opened his eyes, they were fierce.
“What do you want to know?”
“Did Daddy have any enemies who would be capable of something like this?”
There was no hesitation in his answer. “None that I know of. His enemies were all about money.”
Mac laid his hand on Caitlin’s arm, begging her forgiveness in advance as he asked. “Did he have any secrets? Something that only you knew?”
Caitlin looked startled and wanted to argue that her father wasn’t that kind of man, but then, she hadn’t known of his visits to Glen Ellen. Maybe there were other things about him that she hadn’t known, things that would matter—things that might save her life.
Abernathy frowned. “I’m sorry, but you’ve taken me by surprise with that question. It’s been so long since I was in the habit of keeping confidences that I…”
He stopped, then looked up, his eyes widening in memory.
“There was one thing that I always thought rather strange, although I can’t imagine how it could have any bearing on these murders.”
“Anything,” Mac urged. “I was a cop long enough to know that one man’s garbage is another man’s treasure.”
Abernathy looked at Mac and smiled. “And that includes information. Am I right, son?”
“Yes, sir, you are. Now, what were you saying?”
“Well, for as long as I could remember, your father had two thousand dollars a month sent to a woman in Toledo, Ohio. There was even a clause in his will that the monies be continued after his death. I did so up until the day I retired, and I distinctly remember giving Julius Bernstein that information myself when he took over your father’s affairs.”
Caitlin was flabbergasted. “Two thousand dollars a month?”
He nodded.
“How long had that been going on?” she asked.
“Close to thirty years, I’d say.”
Mac looked at Caitlin. “Can you think of any reason why he would do that?”
Caitlin shook her head. “No. In fact, I’m shocked.”
“Mr. Abernathy, do you by any chance remember her name?” Mac asked.
Abernathy smiled. “Why certainly. I told you it was my body that quit, not my mind. Her name was Georgia, like the state. Georgia Calhoun.”
They were all the way back into the city before Mac thought to ask John Steiner if he’d ever heard of Georgia Calhoun. When he asked, the chauffeur tilted his head, as if giving it some thought, then shook his head.
“No, I can’t say that I have. Is she a relative of yours?”
“No, sir. We were thinking you might have heard Mr. Bennett speak of her in years past.”
“Oh, no, sir,” John said. “Mr. Bennett didn’t confide in me at all. I just drove his car, you understand.”
“It’s all right, Uncle John. I confided in you enough for both of us, didn’t I?”
Ignoring the blare of a horn and the cabdriver cursing in the lane beside him, John chuckled as he braked for a red light.
“That you did, missy. And I kept your secrets, didn’t I?”
Caitlin grinned. “Did you ever. Daddy never did find out that it was me who broke the headlight on his vintage MG. He thought he’d done it. He raged for weeks at his carelessness.”
John laughed. “And it took him six months to find a replacement, remember?”
“It broke me from ever driving a car again,” Caitlin said.
Mac looked at her with surprise. “You can’t drive?” he asked.
Caitlin met John’s gaze in the rearview mirror and then broke into laughter.
“Well, let’s just say that it would be in everyone’s best interests if I never got behind the wheel of a car again.”
“You just needed some practice, and this city is no place to learn to drive a car,” John explained.
The light changed, and the car accelerated. Mac took Caitlin’s hand, threading her fingers through his and then giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Come to Atlanta. I’ll teach you to drive.”
Caitlin turned. “Are you serious?”
He nodded. “When I leave, come home with me.”
“For a visit?”
He hesitated, then smiled. “For starters.”
She lowered her voice. “Connor McKee, what are you asking me?”
“We’re here, missy,” John said.
“Don’t get out,” Mac said. “You’re on the traffic side of the street. I’ll help Caitlin out, and thank you for a wonderful drive.”
John Steiner turned, giving the pair in the back seat a nod and a smile.
“Yes, sir, thank you,” he said, then gave Caitlin a calm, studied stare. “You take care of yourself, missy, and if I were you, I’d be thinking hard about that visit to Atlanta.”
Caitlin blushed as Mac helped her out of the car, then waved the old chauffeur on his way.
“Why do I feel like I just got caught necking?”
Mac grinned. “Wishful thinking, maybe?”
She punched him lightly on the arm and grinned.
“Inside with you. We need to check on Aaron.”
“And I want to get on the Internet and see what we can find out about Georgia Calhoun.”
An hour later, Caitlin was throwing together a snack and Mac was on the phone with Aaron.
“Yeah,” he said. “We’re doing all right. How about you, little brother?”
“I’m probably going to gain fifty pounds,” Aaron said. “David is a lot like Mom. Remember how she always wanted to feed us, no matter whether we were hurt, sick or sad?”
Mac laughed. “Boy, do I ever. I could go for some of those coconut cookies she used to make.”
“Caitlin makes some that are pretty close,” Aaron said.
Mac didn’t bother to hide his shock. “Caitlin cooks?”
Aaron laughed aloud, then winced. “Oh, that hurt,” he moaned. “Don’t make me laugh again, please.”
“Sorry,” Mac said. “But I’ve yet to see Caitlin cook anything. She opens cans, reheats and eats peanut butter and pickle sandwiches, but I don’t see her cook.”
“Oh, that’s because she’s into a book. In between times, she’s great.�
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“Well, something to look forward to.”
“Sticking around that long, are you?” Aaron teased.
“Stuff it, little brother. It was a figure of speech.”
“By the way,” Aaron said, “thanks for calling David for me.”
“Hey, no problem. He’s pretty sharp. You’d do well to take some of his investment advice.”
Aaron chuckled. “Always thinking ahead, aren’t you, Mac? When are you going to let yourself go and enjoy life before it’s too late?”
“Enough about me,” Mac said. “I’ve got some computer work ahead of me.
“Better you than me,” Aaron said. “Besides, who knows? I may have to learn to use Braille.”
Mac heard the fear in Aaron’s voice and frowned.
“That’s not going to happen,” he said. “You heard the doctor. You’re going to be fine, but it’s going to take patience.”
“Of which I have little,” Aaron said. “Oh, I’ve got to go. David is telling me that lunch is ready. Lucky me. We’re having smothered steak, baked potatoes and Caesar salad.”
“Just be glad you’re still here to eat it,” Mac said. “Take care, and remember what I told you. Stay out of sight until this mess is over.”
“I don’t have to be told twice. I’ll talk to you later.”
Mac hung up, then immediately turned to Caitlin’s computer. During his stint on the force, he’d gotten pretty good at locating missing persons. He’d even found a couple of perps with outstanding warrants with no more information than old work records. This time he had a name, a city and a state. If only he hadn’t lost his touch. They needed a break in this case in the worst way.
Sal Amato was on the way out of the precinct when a FedEx truck pulled away from the entrance. He noticed it with half a thought, then headed toward his car, his mind on lunch and wondering where the hell Paulie had gone. He’d said he would be right behind him.
He started the car, letting the engine warm up as he waited. A minute later he saw Paulie waving at him from the door. He rolled down the window.
“What?” he yelled.
“Lieutenant wants you. He said the tape is back from Quantico.”
Sal killed the engine and got out on the run, slipping and sliding through the snow-packed lot as he hurried toward the door.
“Are you kidding me?” he asked, as he ran inside.
“No,” Paulie said. “And hurry. The lieutenant says there’s something we need to see.”
They took the stairs two at a time, both puffing by the time they reached the third floor.
“Has anyone called Neil and Kowalski?” Sal asked.
“I don’t know. Franconi just told me to find you.”
Caitlin was washing cream cheese off her fingers when the telephone rang. She grabbed a towel, drying her hands as she ran to answer.
“Bennett residence.”
“Miss Bennett, it’s Detective Neil.”
She tossed the towel on the counter and leaned back against the wall, picturing the man’s face as she spoke.
“Hello, Detective. Has there been news?”
“Well, we’re not sure,” he said. “My partner and I have been viewing security tapes from your building that were taken on the day that package was delivered to you.”
“Package? I assume you mean the one containing the Rat Tartar.”
There was a moment of silence, and then he almost chuckled.
“That would be the one,” he said. “The reason I’m calling is, there are several individuals on the tape who we can’t identify and we would like you to take a look at them. Do you mind?”
“No. I’d be glad to,” Caitlin said. “I’ll just tell Mac and then call a cab.”
“There’s no need for you to take a cab. I’m in the neighborhood. Why don’t I drop by and pick you both up?”
“Why, that would be fine,” Caitlin said. “When can we expect you?”
“I’m only a few minutes away. I’ll come up for you. That way you won’t have to wait in the lobby, where you would be…That way you won’t have to wait.”
“Thank you for being so thoughtful,” she said, knowing what he’d been about to say—that in the lobby she would be exposed, to some degree, a target.
“Great. I’ll see you in about five minutes.”
Caitlin hung up, then looked at their lunch with a sigh. It would just have to wait. Having settled that in her mind, she began searching for the plastic wrap.
“Who was on the phone?” Mac said as he came into the kitchen. Then he frowned. “Why are you putting that up? We haven’t eaten yet.”
She handed him a piece of bagel that she’d smeared with cream cheese and then laid a piece of bacon on the top.
“That was Detective Neil. He wants me to come down to the precinct and look at the security tapes.”
“What tapes?”
“From this building, the day the rat was delivered.”
“Good idea,” he said. “I just started a search for Georgia Calhoun, but I’ll go turn off the computer.” He took a bite of the bagel as he started to leave. “Hey,” he said. “This is good.”
Caitlin smiled. “You don’t have to sound so surprised.”
Before Mac could defend himself, the doorbell rang.
“Wow, that was fast,” she said, then looked down at her feet. She was wearing her puppy slippers. “I can’t wear these,” she gasped.
“I’ll get it,” Mac said as Caitlin raced to the bedroom to put on shoes.
“Come in, Detective. Have a seat. Caitlin is almost ready. I’ve just got to go turn off the computer.”
“Wait,” Caitlin said as she hurried into the room. “Why don’t you just stay here and finish what you started? Everything will go a lot faster if we’re working at this from both ends.”
“No way,” Mac said. “You don’t get out of my sight.”
Caitlin laughed and pointed at Neil.
“But, Mac, I’ll have police protection. Detective Neil has offered to take me to the station, and I have every expectation that if I asked him real nice, he’d also bring me back to the door.”
Neil smiled. “You have my word on that,” he said, then looked at Mac. “I promise, Mr. McKee, that I will take good care of her.”
Caitlin turned to Mac, silently pleading her case.
Mac sighed. This wasn’t good. He didn’t like the way Neil looked at her, but already he couldn’t tell her no. What in hell would it be like to be married to a woman you couldn’t refuse?
“Yeah, I see what you mean,” Mac said giving Neil a hard stare. “I suppose it will be all right. When you’ve finished with the tapes, you’ll personally see to her return?”
Neil nodded and extended his hand.
“You have my word that I will not let her out of my sight.”
Reluctantly Mac shook the man’s hand, then helped Caitlin into her coat.
“Button up,” he said gently as he fastened the top buttons she always left undone. “You don’t want to get cold.”
It wasn’t what he said but the way that he said it that told Caitlin how much he cared.
“It’s not this cold in Atlanta, is it?” she asked.
His eyes widened. This was the first time she’d hinted she might accept his invitation. A slow smile spread over his face.
“No,” he said softly. “It’s not nearly this cold.”
“I’ll be looking forward to that,” she said, then kissed him soundly, oblivious to the detective at her back.
Neil stared at the pair, then unobtrusively turned his back, pretending to look at a painting by the door.
Caitlin tapped him on the shoulder. “I’m ready.”
He turned, nodded at Mac and then offered her his elbow.
“Ever ride in a police car?” he asked.
“Yes, actually I have,” she said as they went out the door. “It was for research on my third…no, my fourth book. Only it wasn’t in New York. It was in L.A.”
> “Interesting,” Neil said.
It was the last thing Mac heard them say. Anxious to get back to his research, he headed toward the office, sensing time was of the essence. He didn’t want Georgia Calhoun to turn up like the Delarosa woman had.
Sal Amato was still staring at the enhanced still shots lifted from the video he had been looking at for the last few minutes. In all his years on the force, he’d never known this much fear, but if he said what he was thinking aloud, it could cause shock waves that might never end. Finally he looked up.
“Lieutenant, does that guy look familiar to you?”
Del Franconi shrugged. “You tell me?”
“Paulie, what’s your take?”
Paulie Hahn was sweating. He kept looking at the picture and wanting to throw up.
“It can’t be,” he muttered.
“Looks too damned much like him to ignore,” Franconi said. “I want you two to do some digging. Find out if what we know about him jibes with the facts, and do it fast.”
Sal turned, his eyes wide with disbelief.
“Man, Lieutenant, if that’s who I think it is, we’re in a world of hurt.”
“No, if it’s who we think it is, he’s going to be the one in pain.”
Eighteen
Mac’s fingers flew across the keyboard as he stared at the screen. It was all about accessing phone books and social security records. Granted, he was hacking into a couple of places he wasn’t supposed to be, but the way he figured it, the ends justified the means.
According to the facts on the screen, there were three Georgia Calhouns in the state of Ohio, two in Toledo, one in a small town on the other side of the state. He printed the information off the screen and then exited quickly, his heart racing as he reached for the phone. Wouldn’t it be something if he had the woman located before Caitlin got back from the precinct?
The first number he called was no longer in service. His hopes slipped a little as he dialed the next number, but he reminded himself that this was just the first step. The phone rang once, then twice, then three times. Expecting to get an answering machine, he was elated when a young woman answered.
“Hello?”
“I’d like to speak to Georgia Calhoun,” he said.