“But then you wondered about that and…?”
That made her laugh. “Honestly, Ben, you sound like a little boy who’s already been told the same story a dozen times. But when I wondered about it, he explained how her parents had made her invest the $50,000 at first, because she was only nineteen. But that a few years later, she used it to buy this Shilo Inn place.”
“She must have had guts, going into business for herself when she still couldn’t have been very old.” Nineteen when she’d had him, he reflected once more. Only a child herself.
His sister had been right, of course, when she’d said that the DeCarlos had been his real parents. Now that he’d had some time to work through his feelings, he realized the truth of that. And especially, Bethany DeCarlo had been his real mother.
Still, he couldn’t help wondering if he looked like Sally Windeller. And about who his father was, and whether any of his grandparents were still alive. There were a host of other questions as well, but he wouldn’t be getting the answers to most of them. Not today, at least Today he had other priorities.
When the cabbie pulled off the expressway, Ben’s adrenaline began to pump. He was dying to suggest that he hang in all the way to the Shilo, but made himself keep quiet.
As much as he wanted to meet the woman who’d given birth to him, and hear what she had to say firsthand, he knew it would be too risky.
Hell, it was dicey enough for Monique to be going in there. What if either Grenoble or Sally Windeller had called the cops—let them know that some friend of Ben DeCarlo’s would be showing up to see Sally?
He told himself that hadn’t happened. After all, the woman was his mother. Then he looked at Monique and tried to stop imagining her being interrogated by a team of detectives.
“The Shilo’s just up the block,” the cabbie said, glancing at them in the rearview. “You want I should let you out here?”
Ben nodded, and the man pulled over.
“Okay,” Ben whispered to Monique. “If you spot a cruiser, or anything that even looks as if it might be an unmarked police car, tell this guy to keep going.
“I know,” she whispered back. “I’m getting awfully good at this stuff, remember?”
He forced a smile and said, “Practice makes perfect, huh?” Kissing her, he grabbed the suitcase that contained their guns—then hesitated.
At the moment, though, Monique didn’t need hers any more than he needed his. And taking them out of the case in front of the cabbie wouldn’t be smart
“See you in a few minutes,” he said, sliding out of the taxi and trying to look nonchalant But he wanted to go along with her so badly it was all he could do to keep his feet from moving when the taxi pulled away.
Once the cabbie headed off again, Monique smoothed her wig and gazed intently out at the parked cars they were passing—even though she probably wouldn’t recognize an unmarked police car if it drove into her.
She took a deep breath as the taxi turned into the lot of the Shilo Inn. It was a relatively small and modest motel, but not the unsavory sort most people would never even consider staying at.
After checking that there were no suspiciouslooking cars parked outside any of the units, she paid the driver and anxiously headed into the office.
A woman was sitting at a computer behind the counter, and when she glanced up she looked every bit as nervous as Monique felt. She was a little washed-out but still attractive, and she had deep blue eyes the exact color of Ben’s.
“Ms. Windeller?”
“Actually, I go by Brooks. I was married for a few years, way back. Call me Sally, though. And you’re Anne Gault, of course.”
Monique nodded, feeling a twinge of guilt. Sally Brooks seemed like a nice woman, the kind who made people want to be honest with her.
“I’d invite you into the back,” she said, gesturing toward a partially open door that led into living quarters, “but I’m here alone—with the phones and all.”
“That’s no problem. And I won’t take much of your time. I just want to—”
“How is he?” Sally quietly interrupted. “My son.”
“He’s…Sally, he didn’t do it. He’s not a killer.”
Sally gazed at her for a minute, then said, “Thank you for saying that.”
“I’m not just saying it. Ben didn’t murder Bethany and Antonio DeCarlo. Someone who looked like him did.”
“If that’s true,” Sally murmured, “it must have been so awful for him. First his parents dead. Then ending up in prison. Now on the run.”
“Yes. It hasn’t been good. And I…”
Monique tried to ask the critical question but couldn’t. The moment she did, Sally would know the real question wasn’t simply did she have another son. It was did she have another son who might have committed the murders. There was simply no way of phrasing it that—
At the sound of the door opening, Monique glanced toward it—and her breath caught in her throat. Ben was walking into the office.
“Oh, my God,” Sally whispered. “It’s you.”
Monique focused on her once more, certain she couldn’t have instantly recognized Ben—particularly with his beard—unless she did have another son who looked incredibly like him.
“Sorry,” he said, shrugging sheepishly when Monique turned toward him again. “But I could see there were no cops around, and only the two of you in here, and I couldn’t resist”.
Ben turned his gaze to Sally…to his birth mother. He simply stood there holding the suitcase and looking at her, his throat tight and a funny feeling in his chest
It seemed so strange not to have met his own mother until now. But she was his biological mother. He had her eyes. And she had a cleft in her chin, just like his. He’d always wondered where that had come from.
“Hello,” he said at last “I just had to meet you.”
She nodded, her face pale.
“Have you asked her yet?” he said to Monique.
“No.”
“Then I will.” His heart pounding in his ears, he made himself say, “Do I have a brother? One who looks a lot like me?”
His question hung for a long, tense moment And then she shook her head. “I never had any more children, Ben. I’m sorry. I know what you were thinking.
He felt as if he was collapsing in on himself. He’d been trying not to count on this, but deep down he had been. And now…
Now what? This had been his final lead and it had led nowhere.
“Ben?” Monique whispered, moving to his side and reaching for his hand. “Ben, take it easy, we’re not done yet. We’ll figure some way of finding out what Danny knows.”
Ben merely shook his head. Any more dealings with Danny Dupray would be just too risky. He sold information to too many people on both sides of the law.
And that meant they’d reached the end of the line. All Ben could hope now was that he’d be able to get to some corner of the world where he’d be reasonably safe, because he’d force the cops to shoot him before he’d go back to prison.
But even if he succeeded in making a future for himself somewhere, it couldn’t be with Monique. He loved her too much to drag her into an entire lifetime of hiding out and constantly feeling uneasy. She’d already tasted that kind of existence in the witness protection program, and he knew how much she’d hated it
He took one last look at his mother, then said, “I guess this is goodbye.”
When she wiped her eyes, his own began to sting.
He quickly turned to leave, but at that exact moment a door somewhere else slammed and a man yelled, “Mom, I’m home early! And you’re not going to believe what that bastard of a boss did to me!”
For a split second Ben froze. Then he frantically dug in his pocket for the key to the suitcase, wondering what lapse of sanity had kept him from taking the guns out at the damn airport.
Just as his fingers found the key, a man wearing a security company uniform—complete with gun and holster—stormed through th
e doorway from the living quarters. He stopped in his tracks and stared at Ben.
Ben stared back. It was like looking at himself, minus his beard and with his hair back to its natural color.
“Shee-it!” the other man said, drawing his gun. “If it isn’t my long lost twin brother.”
Twin. This man pointing a gun at him was his twin.
“Larry,” Sally said sharply. “Larry, there’s no need for that gun.”
“No?” he snarled. “Well I think you’re wrong. In there,” he added, gesturing for the others to precede him into the living quarters.
Ben held back, hoping for a chance to heave his suitcase, but Larry gave a menacing wave with his gun and muttered, “Get moving.”
Once they were all in the living room, Larry kicked the door to the office shut.
“Okay, Benny boy, put down that suitcase. Then you and your girlfriend go sit on the couch.”
Ben set the case down and took Monique’s hand It was icy cold, and he knew she was petrified. He led her over to the couch, desperately trying to think of how they could get out of this. But as long as Larry was training his pistol on them, there wasn’t much hope.
“Go get something to tie them up with,” he ordered Sally, not taking his eyes off Ben and Monique.
“Larry, this is crazy. Just let them leave.”
“What? So they can tell the cops they found someone who looks just like Benny boy? Make them think those eyewitnesses could have been wrong, and use his fancy lawyers to lay the blame on me? Get real.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
“I’ll take care of them. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“Larry, I—”
“Get me something!” he snapped. “There’s some rope in the storage unit Go down there and get it.”
She hesitated for a second, then turned and fled.
“Twins,” Monique murmured, gazing at Larry. “You said you’re Ben’s twin?”
“Yeah, lucky me, huh? She agrees to adopt her baby out Then she ends up having twins and convinces her parents to let her keep one—to not even tell the DeCarlos there were two of us. And you know why she got to keep me?” he asked, eyeing Ben.
“No. Why?”
“’Cuz she could afford to. ‘Cuz the DeCarlos were so damn rich they paid her fifty grand for you. Did you know that?”
“I just found out.”
“Well I’ve known for a long time. She told me the whole story when I was a kid—except for who adopted you. I only discovered that a few years back.
“Fifty grand! You know how much money that was thirty-four years ago? Enough that she didn’t have to worry about being in poverty if she kept me. So I got to grow up in this crummy joint while you were growing up in an effing mansion. Stupid bitch. And she figured I should be glad she decided to keep me.
“She did it because she loved you,” Monique said quietly. “I’m sure she’d have kept both of you if she could have.”
“Yeah? Well I don’t figure she did me any favor. I coulda grown up in that mansion with Benny boy, here. If she’d told the DeCarlos about me, they’d have adopted the both of us. But the stupid bitch kept me. So I could slave my ass off around here while I was growing up, then get some dumb job and live a lousy life.
“See,” he went on, scowling at Ben, “I don’t have no fancy wine bar. And I don’t have no fortune tucked away. In fact, as of this afternoon I don’t even have a job. I got canned an hour ago. It’s just a good thing this gun belongs to me, not them, huh? Otherwise I wouldn’t even have it”
“Larry?” Sally said from the doorway.
Ben looked at her and stopped breathing. She didn’t have any rope, but she had a very large Magnum. And she was pointing it at Larry.
“What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” he snapped, his gaze flickering her way.
“You’re going to let them go.”
“Like hell I am. Put that thing down.”
Instead of doing as he ordered, she cocked the hammer. The quiet click sounded incredibly loud in the silence of the room.
Ben glanced from her to Larry, his heart in his throat, vaguely aware that Monique was holding so tightly to his hand she was cutting off his circulation. He gave a quick squeeze, then slowly drew his hand away from hers. If he got the slightest chance…
“You wouldn’t shoot me,” Larry told Sally. “I’m your son.”
“So is Ben,” she murmured
When Larry gave her a long, furious look, Ben seized his chance. He threw himself across the room and tackled Larry. His gun exploded as they went down.
The sound was echoed by someone screaming, striking terror in Ben’s heart He knocked his brother cold with a single blow to the temple—a trick Dominick DeCarlo had taught him when he was just a boy—then he stuck Larry’s gun into his waistband and looked across the room.
Monique was standing with her hand resting on Sally’s shoulder. Sally was holding one arm with her other hand—blood oozing through her fingers.
“I’m all right,” she told him. “I don’t think it’s too serious.”
Ben eyed both women for a second, relief sweeping him, then he remembered Monique had a tape recorder and some clothesline in her purse.
“Bring me that clothesline you’ve got,” he told her.
When she did, he quickly tied it around Larry’s hands and feet. Then he strode across the room to Sally.
“It really isn’t too bad,” she said. “But what about Larry?”
“He’ll wake up with one hell of a headache, but he’ll be okay.”
When Sally simply nodded, Ben exhaled slowly, feeling emotionally swamped. Then he put his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. “Thanks,” he whispered. “You saved our lives.”
“You’re my son,” she said, blinking back tears. “But so is Larry. And what am I going to do about him? I think he really might have killed you.”
“We’ve got to get you to a doctor. That’s the first thing. After that, we’ll figure out the rest.”
Ben gagged Larry with a scarf of Sally’s, then they left through the office. After locking the place up tight and flipping over the Back in 30 Minutes sign, he drove her Ford to a clinic not far from the Shilo.
While Monique and Sally went inside, he sat in the car trying to recall exactly what Larry had said earlier. Sally had told him to let them leave. And Larry had said…
“What? So they can tell the cops they found someone who looks just like Benny boy? Make them think those eyewitnesses could have been wrong, and use his fancy lawyers to lay the blame on me?”
That had been a long way from a confession of guilt. And Ben would have been a lot happier if Larry had admitted he’d been the one in Augustine’s that day. As it was, he’d simply sounded like a paranoid who figured his brother was looking for a scapegoat. But Larry had to be the killer.
Didn’t he?
One way or another, they were going to find out as soon as they got back to the Shilo. And then there was the other million dollar question. If Larry had been the shooter, who had known he existed and planned the murders?
3:48 p.m.
THE THREE OF THEM DROVE back from the clinic in silence, Sally curled up in the back seat cradling the arm that was now in a sling.
She was a little groggy from the painkillers the doctor had given her, but even if she hadn’t been, Monique thought, there somehow seemed no point in talking about anything until they got their answers from Larry. And if the answers were what she was certain they’d be, she and Ben had succeeded.
Glancing across the front seat at him, she was almost afraid to believe they had. She’d fallen so deeply in love with him that if she couldn’t be with him for the rest of her life…
She told herself not to even think about that. They’d found the real killer, so everything was going to turn out fine. No, she corrected herself as Ben turned into the Shilo’s lot, everything was going to turn out wonderfully.
/> “What the…?” he muttered, pulling the car to an abrupt stop a good twenty feet from the motel’s office.
Monique followed his gaze with her eyes and a queazy feeling began creeping around inside her. A teenaged boy was standing inside the office looking out at them.
“Oh, my,” Sally said, sitting up in the back. “Oh, my, how did he get in?”
“Who is he?” Ben demanded.
“His name’s Kevin, and he helps out after school most days. Cleans up around the lot, looks after the pool and things. But he doesn’t have a key.”
Ben was out of the car and racing for the office before Monique had her door open. Her heart pounding, she helped Sally out as quickly as possible— which wasn’t too quickly given her sling. Then they headed after Ben.
“He’s gone!” he said, turning toward them as they hurried into the office. “Larry’s gone!”
Monique simply stared at him. His expression was dark and desperate, and she knew exactly what he was feeling. If they’d come this close, only to have their happy ending slip through their fingers…
As she swallowed over the lump in her throat, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She breathed in his comforting male scent, wanting to simply bury her face against his chest and make the rest of the world go away. Instead, she forced herself to look at Kevin and tune into what he was saying.
“Some guys mugged him, Sally! They knocked him out and took his gun and tied him up and everything. But I found him and untied him. See, when the office was locked I thought maybe you were just in back. So I went around the side. And when I looked in the living room window, there was Larry. So I…well, I’m afraid I had to break the window to get it unlocked. But then I just climbed in and untied him. So what happened to your arm?” he added, eyeing the sling.
“A little accident, that’s all.”
“Kevin, where did Larry go?” Ben demanded.
“I don’t know exactly. He took off in his car after the muggers. I said we should call the cops, but he said he knew the guys who did it and he’d take care of things himself. I don’t know for sure what he had in mind, but there was a gun sitting on a table in there and he grabbed it on his way out”
The Valentine Hostage Page 14