“I would have thought you’d know, Ms. Abbott. I understand you were in charge of this little shindig … or has your story about that changed also?”
Rachel didn’t even bat an eye. She was a cool customer, but Perrone would get a response from the ice queen. He had all night. Perrone stared at Rachel’s garishly painted red mouth as she spoke.
“Being in charge means you get to delegate. I’m sure you realize that, or does being on the bottom of that food chain mean you never found even that much out?”
Rachel waited a moment. Perrone’s jaw tightened. He’d tried to get to her, but she’d drawn the first blood. She was enjoying the game. She wondered if Perrone was. After all, he’d started it.
“As for my story, I haven’t changed a single detail. Maybe it’s your memory that’s cloudy. I hear that sometimes happens with people of your advanced years.”
Perrone again flinched. He wasn’t old. He was goddamned proud of his age. He didn’t need a half-dressed freak to be commenting on the length of time he’d spent on earth. His instinct was to fire back with a personal attack, but his years on the police force taught him one thing – focus on what you’re doing and don’t let a suspect get your goat. He’d get this bitch. He was almost there. He wouldn’t let her get in his head.
“Interesting perspective. What’s your theory on people your age forgetting things?”
“I can’t imagine what you mean, Detective Perrone?” she said shifting her weight to one foot and crossing her arms. It gave her breasts a platform to fall on.
“No? That’s not what I hear. I hear you went and forgot to tell me and your boss about an entire coffin.”
It was Perrone’s turn to watch reactions. Her pupils dilated and her body stiffened ever so slightly. He could tell he’d caught her by surprise. He was happy that what he’d said had removed that smarmy arrogance she wore like bad perfume. Rachel Abbott would be behind bars. One way of another he’d have this bitch in jail. He owed it to Sara Puhlman.
Rachel licked her lips before she answered. She fingered the neckline of her dress pulling the material over her smooth white flesh in an attempt to cover it. Perrone noticed that her eyes darted to the upper corner. He knew the signals and knew it meant she was attempting to cover things up with lies. He’d been right – she was hiding something.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re talking about. What coffin are you speaking of? Yours?”
Perrone knew she was going on the offensive. Trying to flip the script. It was an old hackneyed ploy and the way to handle it is to do the same. Go on the offensive and make her back down. He needed to switch roles.
“Is that a threat, Ms. Abbott?”
“Just an inevitability.”
“You mean, like you going to jail for Sara Puhlman’s murder?”
“Detective, if you have any evidence, I suggest you arrest me. Otherwise, back off!”
Rachel’s tone had increased in volume. She was becoming upset. Perrone was more than satisfied. He had turned the tables on her. He knew how to do his job. Just a little bit more and maybe he could get her to slip and tell him what he needed to put the noose around that white neck.
“Evidence? Oh, I have the evidence or what’s left of it.” He slid his hand into his pant pocket and pulled out the nail. Rachel recognized it and drew back.
“Remember this?”
Perrone moved it closer to her.
“It was midnight. You were alone and there are no security cameras in your office. You had complete privacy. You opened the crate and found the coffin. What was it filled with? Drugs? Stolen artifacts? Or had someone just made a mistake and shipped a priceless treasure that wasn’t on the packing list? I don’t know what it was, but I’ll bet it’s worth a hell of a lot more than you make working here. You’re a smart girl and instantly knew what was going on. Someone had shipped something and maybe the middle man working at the docks called in sick that day. The shipment went through and landed in your lap. You knew the value of whatever it was and you did what you had to do to feather your nest. You hid whatever was in the coffin. Whatever it was is still here. Maybe even scattered around the museum. Lots of hiding places and I’ll bet you know them all, but that left the coffin. You needed to dispose of it. You had the hammer and you took that coffin apart. Put the pieces of wood in the shipping area. No one’s going to notice or question a few extra pieces of wood. You didn’t need to clean the floor because you had opened the outer casing, but you did need to dispose of those pesky copper nails. They didn’t match the nails in the casing. You tried, but you missed one. That’s all it takes – just one copper nail. It’s enough to shut your coffin nice and tight.”
Rachel stood listening to the story, knowing the reverse was true. She wasn’t going anywhere. It was time for Perrone to find out the truth instead digging around, espousing wild theories. Rachel would be happy for him to see exactly what she saw. She’d arrange for him to see what happened to the coffin and meet the contents of it – in person. It would be fun.
“That’s an interesting fairy tale. Suppose you’ll be telling me about unicorns next.”
“This isn’t a fairy tale, Ms. Abbott. I can prove this coffin was shipped to Fairfield Museum. The first way is by weight. An empty carton by definition has nothing inside. Its weight should be the same as what the carton weighs and not a pound more. Did you forget that cargo is weighed? That’s how it’s charged. You think it weighed the same as an empty carton? I don’t, and the weight is recorded – right on the packing slip. Then there are the eyewitness that swear the coffin was packed up nice and tight. You yourself agreed that it was sealed. Can’t change your story now, can you? I’m pretty sure you’d like to. It leaves only one conclusion. That you stole the contents and I’ll bet it’s still here. Not enough time for you to sneak it home. Just need a court order to search this place and you’ll be where you deserve – behind bars.”
“First a murderer and now an art thief? You’re amazing, or should I say I am. All you’re doing is throwing spaghetti at a wall and hoping something will stick. I suggest you get another job because you’re lousy at doing this one.”
With that, Rachel turned her back on Perrone and walked away. Perrone wanted to pull her back and make her speak to him, but he couldn’t. He had thought he’d get a bigger reaction, but maybe it just needed time to sink in. She’d realize that he had her and that there was no way she’d get away with the theft and murder. He wondered how Sara Puhlman was involved. Could she have been the intended recipient of the stolen cargo? It would make sense. By getting rid of Sara, Rachel and her accomplice would get to keep the entire booty. He watched Rachel mingling and talking as if nothing was wrong. She should realize that everything was going awry. He couldn’t wait until the plan came crashing down all around her. He’d be with her every step of the way, ensuring it would.
He spotted a few people he knew and headed over to shoot the breeze. He wasn’t ready to leave the party. He wanted to keep an eye on Rachel. He was banking on pushing Rachel a little more. He needed for her to crack and tell him the truth.
The more pressure applied the better. It’s how you stopped the bleeding.
CHAPTER 21
The Strauss waltzes continued as did the dancing. The swirl of taffeta and chiffon juxtapositioned against the stylish black tuxedos was the elegant spark needed to ignite the party’s festive atmosphere. Instead of firecrackers, the display was landbound, but just as engaging. The melding of fabrics and textures twirling about did more for Miranda’s mood than any number of glasses of champagne. Miranda was positively giddy in the delightfully mad peloton of impromptu ballroom dancers. The rush of the alcohol, combined with the beauty of the music put all the dark thoughts out of her head. She only saw Jake’s face against the blurred background as he spun her around the floor. She had no idea he was such a wonderful dance partner. The night lent a perfect backdrop to the brightness of the spectacle. Even the moon looked like a prop on a
stage, adding a luminous incandescent limelight of mystery to the festivities.
Miranda leaned her head back and laughed heartily. She was having so much fun – she never wanted this moment to end. The firm grip Jake had on her waist told her that he would do everything in his power to grant her desire. In spite of the shallowness of their relationship, he understood that the past few months had been hell for her – dealing with the death of a parent usually is. Like Galahad, he rose to the occasion, not only giving her what she needed, but what it would take to make her whole. He was putting her damaged soul on the road to the recovery, advancing her past the heartache. She was now on the path to being happy again – happier than she had ever allowed herself to be. Like a baby chick, she’d needed to break through the fragile shell imprisoning her. With his help, she’d been set free from the past. Finally, she could allow herself time to actually stop and enjoy the scenery before hurrying on to her next battle.
It was a complete surprise to her. She had never expected him to be so attuned, but at least the discovery was a pleasant one. She toyed with the idea of whether there could ever be more, and then stopped her thoughts in mid-stream. It didn’t matter. Right now, the only thing that mattered was this night …. and the music … and being happy within this moment of time. It was more than enough.
Jake took Miranda’s hand and lifted it over her head. She pirouetted under his expert direction and guidance. She burst into an unceasing ripple of laughter that rang out like Christmas bells. The sound mingled with the music like a ribbon through a wreath. Her body and mind felt as light as air; she was entirely prepared to dance the night away. She hoped that Strauss had written enough music for that to happen.
Jake enjoyed Miranda’s childlike reaction to the turn. She was beaming and delightfully spontaneous and unpredictable. Her feminine side had finally come out under the spell of the music and the night. He was caught up in the enchantment of the outdoor venue and hearing the music the way it was meant to be heard – in a natural acoustic setting. Music heard when traveling through open air was the best way to enjoy it – and everyone seemed to agree with that sentiment.
Miranda’s mouth was wide open in wonder – her eyes lit from within. The outdoor decorations bounced refracted glints off her skin and hair. She looked like a fairy princess sprinkled with a diamond coating. He couldn’t leave her wanting more and decided that one spin using a finger turn was not enough. He lifted her hand up over her head and pivoted her skillfully under it like a master puppeteer does to his favorite marionette. With his other hand, he gently pushed on her ribs – to steady her and keep her solidly centered. Miranda got the idea and knew what he wanted her to do. She started twirling – going around and around. She was getting dizzy and light-headed. Her laughter increased as did her blurry vision. She had just come out of a final spin when Jake released her hand. She stepped awkwardly to the side doubled-over with giggles and trying to slow down the world that was rushing by.
Jake felt a tap on his shoulder – someone wanted to cut in. He stepped aside, backing up and allowing the guest to take Miranda’s hand. He turned and saw it was the strange man with the long blonde hair. Jake had seen him earlier and wondered who the hell he was. He definitely hadn’t attended any of the museum’s previous functions. Jake felt sure he would have remembered such an odd character. He had meant to ask Rachel his name and why he’d been put on the guest list, but had forgotten when the hubbub with Perrone had broken out. Talking about coffins and murders will often do that to you.
Miranda’s head was leaning down – staring at the ground. She had her back to them and didn’t see what occurred. She got up and spun around – finding herself in the unfortunate position of staring into the face of Just Peter. The expression on her face was hardly one of delight. It was in diametric opposition to registering pleasure. Jake didn’t like her obvious discomfort with the situation. He felt he’d made a mistake in relinquishing his hold on her. Before he could approach and ask what was going on, the man swept her up in his arms and whisked her away. Jake watched them blend in with the other couples wondering if he’d done the right thing.
Miranda looked over her shoulder trying to find Jake’s face in the crowd. She’d been shocked to see it was Peter that had hold of her. She didn’t want his hands on her. She wanted Jake to rescue her. She didn’t want a scene, but it seemed that it was going to come to that.
She stopped trying to find Jake. She’d have to solve this on her own. The good mood of a second ago was gone, but so was the timid Miranda that allowed herself to be insulted. She faced her provocateur glaring up her resentment and anger at his audacity. His face showed nothing of what he’d done. He was so impudent – so rude. Miranda hated insolent men. She struggled to get away, but he had her firmly in his clutches. He was surprisingly strong. She decided not to make a scene – just yet. There were hedged in by the crowd. If she broke free, she’d have to wade through and interrupt the flow of couples. She waited until they completed the half circle before she shoved him away – finally breaking free. She headed for the balcony picking up her long skirt so she could move more freely. She made it to the stone balustrade and sat down. She had enough of that bastard for one evening. Why he thought she would welcome a tour of the dance floor with him, she didn’t know. Was he so used to stepping on women and still getting what he wanted from them? Well, he’d find out she wasn’t like that. She had her own resources – and her pride. She was angry that she had allowed him to ruin her evening – twice.
She sat feeling the cool night air. She closed her eyes letting it subdue her fevered emotions. She needed to calm down as she felt like bonking him over the head with a heavy object. She knew she wouldn’t be able to get away with it – not with the police here.
She heard a rustling – someone was walking in the grass. She opened her eyes and saw him coming towards her. If he wanted a fight, he’d have one. She was ready. Miranda stood ready to confront him.
“You! You have one hell of a nerve, whoever you are!”
“Me? Whatever is it that you think I’ve done, Miranda?”
“Don’t you dare call me Miranda as if we’re friends. And you know damn well what you did, you bastard! You insulted me!”
“I?” Peter said placing his hand over his heart as if personally devastated by the comment. “I did nothing of the sort.”
“You said I wasn’t beautiful because of the color of my eyes! It was such a worthless, cowardly thing to say – and to do!”
“You must be shallow indeed. I didn’t take you for such a superficial girl. It was merely a comment and has nothing to do with how I feel about you. Do you only date the most handsome men? Or do you make your selections based on what is inside?”
Miranda brushed her hair back with her fingers. She felt her scalp heavy with perspiration from the physical exertion. She wished she were still on the dance floor with Jake and not engaged in this heated debate. He was rude. Why couldn’t he just apologize or leave? Instead he was putting her on the defensive as if it were her fault.
“Of course I care about what is inside, but then this isn’t about me! It’s about you and your lack of manners! I think you’re spoiled! I think that you’re used to women flinging themselves at you for whatever reason,” she snapped derisively. “I can’t think what they see in such a petty, gutless wonder as you.”
She folded her arms over her chest and waited. She’d gotten her frustration out. She waited to see what was inside of this man and how he’d respond. If it was with more insults, she’d leave and go back to the delicious arms of Jake. Strauss was calling. She realized there was just one more thing she needed to say.
“Not beautiful? Might I remind you that it is you that is running after me!”
Peter rubbed his lips with his forefinger. He was entirely too pleased with himself and the conversation. Miranda wondered if this explosion was what he wanted. Well, she’d be damned if she stood around playing mind games with a clown. She trie
d to walk past him. He caught her by the elbow.
“Please, may I explain,” he pleaded tenderly.
His mood seemed to change, but this man was a gamester. He was used to putting on acts. She couldn’t be sure he was being sincere. She’d have to wait and hear what was said since she still wanted that apology.
“Take your hands off of me!” she demanded pulling her arm from him.
He opened his palm and held both hands up in a gesture showing he meant her no harm and would do as she demanded. She rubbed the spot where he’d touched her as if it were bruised or hurting.
“Make it quick then,” she retorted.
Adduné (The Vampire's Game) Page 30