Twin Genius

by Patricia Rice

  “They said they found George,” he said, definitely fading out. “And a woman. I told them about Esther being missing.”

  I tried not to let my eyebrows hit the sky. “Esther went missing at the end of September. George was around until recently, wasn’t he?”

  He closed his eyes, and finally, I saw world weariness. He knew George.

  “I’m sorry to say it, but George was a womanizer. I prayed for them both.”

  This wasn’t about the embezzlement? I hated badgering an ill man, but I needed to know all he could tell me. “George and Esther were in a relationship?”

  “I didn’t approve. I told Esther she’d have to leave the program, that the school owes families the right to believe even their adult children are in a moral environment. She was a strong-willed young woman, and George was a wealthy man. Once she left the school, I had no right to interfere, although I asked Tony to talk to his employee. But Esther was an ambitious young lady and knew what she was doing.”

  Julie had said the school hadn’t known that Esther had left. I didn’t want to press him on this possibly irrelevant issue—although he was looking too weak to press the bigger ones as well. I grimaced and tried one anyway. “Will the park be in financial trouble after the embezzled funds are untangled?”

  He didn’t answer. That was answer enough. I patted his hand. “I’ll tell Magda you’re doing as well as possible.”

  “Give her my regards,” he said with a trace of a faint smile.

  Cynical Magda and gullible Arden—a match made in hell. He had no idea how lucky he’d been to escape that fate.

  On my way out, I pondered my next move. Summoning the audacity to do what I had in mind, I skirted an empty gurney to reach the elevator. While I waited for the door to open, some tall clod invaded my space. I was about to step into the elevator when a hard object shoved at the back of my army jacket. He had to push pretty hard for me to notice through all the layers, but he had my attention.

  “We need to have a talk with you. Stay cool and nothing will happen.”

  Famous last words.

  Chapter 20

  Guns truly are useless unless one shoots them immediately and unexpectedly. Anything else, and you give your victim time to think, so the guy holding his metallic penis to my coat was not only a cowardly criminal, but a stupid one.

  If I were half a foot higher, I could have smacked my head backwards and taken out his nose, but I make up for lack of height with meanness.

  “A gun? In a hospital? Really?” I asked with incredulity, staggering sideways as if caught off-guard.

  My staggering was deliberate. Before he could reposition his gun, I bumped the gurney into his thigh with my hip, throwing him off balance. At the same time, I screamed for help, stomped the arch of his foot as hard as I could, grabbed his elbow in a freeze lock, and shoved his gun arm upward. I expected him to blast the ceiling but heard only a click.

  He hadn’t removed the safety. Score one for the ceiling.

  My shriek of fury paralyzed the nurses at the desk, but it alerted the security on Arden’s door. They dashed to grab Stupid’s gun arm before he could bring it back down and blast me off the planet. Not that that would be a smart move, but it was the one I’d expected and prepared for.

  Since I didn’t need to break his arm, I dropped and rolled out of the way to let men bigger than me grapple with the gun and goon. “Call 911,” I shouted at the frozen nurses. One already had the phone in her hand, and I gave her points for responding quickly.

  “It could be a diversion. Don’t leave Arden’s door unguarded,” I barked at the body builders once they had the goon’s arms behind his back. They looked down at bossy me in startlement, but one ran back to man the door.

  The other manacled the goon and commandeered the gun while I scrambled to stand up again. “Boss said you were a brat,” was his only comment.

  “That’s a term of affection in comparison to what he usually calls me.” I dusted myself off and studied Stupid. He narrowed his eyes, set his thin lips, and showed all sign of refusing to speak. I didn’t want to talk to him anyway. I reached for the bulge in his back pocket and removed his wallet.

  “They make them dumber by the day,” I said with a sigh as I found his license, a credit card in a different name, and photos of half-naked women, along with a crisp hundred-dollar down payment. You get what you pay for.

  I used my phone to snap pics of the license and credit card and one of the more stacked women and sent them off to Graham.

  “Problem is, there’s more of them than us,” the muscle said with a straight face.

  “I like you,” I said with a genuine smile of approval before punching the elevator button to open the door again. “So I’ll let you make him scream before the cops get here. Tell Graham if he says anything at all interesting, but that C-note speaks for itself. This isn’t a pro job.”

  “You need someone to go down with you,” he protested when he saw I was leaving. “There could be more of them down there.”

  “You would deny me my fun? Just wait until my mother shows up, and you’ll understand.” I had utterly no doubt that her spies had told her Arden was awake. I didn’t want to hang around and watch the drama.

  Wearing my camouflage army coat and a bored expression, I stepped into a crowded elevator and left goon and guard staring after me in disbelief. I’m used to that.

  When I’d fled my non-traditional life of Magda’s war zones in third world countries, I’d had a vague idea of living a normal life, one without terrorists and assassins on every corner. But even then, on my own, I’d ended up in a slum, fighting muggers and ultimately, hunting for my grandfather’s killer.

  Like it or not, I am my mother’s—and possibly my father’s—daughter. In another life, I could have been the assassin or terrorist, but I’d been gifted with brains and a choice. I didn’t have to earn hundred dollar bills by threatening unarmed citizens.

  Avoiding the lobby where more hired thugs, or their boss, might be waiting, I exited the elevator on the second floor in a pack of people wearing scrubs. I needed a better cover than my army jacket, but it was loaded with the tools of my trade, and I didn’t want to ditch it. Visiting hours had just started, so I wandered through antiseptic-smelling halls with people wearing outdoor gear until I found a group of aides going off shift. I grabbed a trash can and drifted along with them down the service elevator.

  I left through the back door into the parking lot under the cover of departing workers. I didn’t see any more Stupids lurking.

  I hid in the crowd at the bus stop and pinged my favorite Uber driver.

  The only question was where I wanted to go. My phone provided so many interesting temptations. . . . Or I could go home and harass from my desk.

  I was trying to think why that goon would want to talk to me and how much trouble I could be in when the Uber car pulled up.

  “I can make my day’s quota off your tips,” the driver said happily. “Where would m’lady like to go now?”

  I checked my phone for messages. Graham wasn’t screaming at me yet. Julie and Zander hadn’t hollered for my assistance from the police station, and they hadn’t told me they were on the way home yet. It was before noon, so EG was still in school. Graham could keep Tudor occupied. Decision made.

  I dug through my on-line files and produced the address the police last had for Melissa Winters, former JACAD student and mistress of Edward Parker III. It was time someone talked to her.

  I flashed the address at the driver, and he took me to a high-rise condo. We drove right up to the building, and I hopped out, offering a tip if he’d wait to see if I could get in. I loved having money to spread around—it would be like Christmas all year long if I could keep doing it.

  The vestibule gave me intercoms with names. Winters/Parker sounded like a good bet. I wasn’t looking much like a lawyer in my army coat, but I was still on an adrenalin high after the hospital encounter and didn’t intend to turn back
now. I never used my real name if it could be avoided—I didn’t want to be traced back to my family. I had to come up with something quickly.

  So when a voice actually responded, I just pulled rabbits out of a hat. “Hi, I’m Linda Lane. I’m a student at Arden’s school. Esther gave me your name. I wondered if you could help me?”

  She buzzed me in. I leaned out to give the driver a thumbs up, and he waved and sped off. Really, I knew better than to enter a stranger’s home without research, but I was dealing with way too many loose ends. If I meant to have a peaceful holiday, I had to put this puzzle together now. I texted Graham my location as I took the elevator up to her top-floor unit.

  Melissa opened the door to greet me in the hall. Like most of the CAD students, she was model skinny and tall. The good Sunday school teacher had ditched her glasses for either Lasik or contacts. Her brown curls were now platinum, luxuriously long, and salon-styled with enough product to give them wave and not frizz. She wasn’t glamorous by a long shot—button nose and eyes too small—but she had a friendly smile. Money might not buy happiness, but it could buy decent looks.

  “You’ve heard from Esther?” she asked anxiously as she ushered me into a professionally designed studio unit. Underneath the clutter of books, colorful scarves and purses, and a corner filled with easel and art equipment, I could see the neutral taupe and brown of the original design. The black quartz kitchen counter was buried under brochures, catalogs, and probably unanswered mail, along with a few carry-out boxes and menus.

  “It’s been a while, which worries me,” I said, removing two scarves and a sweater from the chair she indicated and taking a seat.

  If she noticed that I was half a foot smaller than most of the students, she didn’t seem concerned. She curled up on a corner of the plush sofa, clutched her hands, and seemed to disappear into the cushions. “I heard they found Mr. Paycock’s body at the park, and I’ve been so worried.”

  “We all are. Esther was so angry when she left. . . . Well, I hoped someone who knew her could tell us she was okay.” So everyone knew Esther was George Paycock’s girl? That led to a lot of speculation. . . and possibly the identity of the other body. Except, why would Esther have been buried long before Paycock disappeared?

  Melissa shook her head. “She and Mr. Paycock had a horrible fight over the school. What year are you, may I ask?”

  “I had to drop out last year, so this is my first year back. Esther was rooming with us until she said she was going home.” I stuck to the truth as Julie knew it, sort of.

  “But you know about the parties, right? That’s how Esther and I met. She and Rebecca were learning school construction, but I wanted to do fundraising and marketing. The construction department wasn’t very supportive of its interns. The lack of funds caused a lot of argument.” She gestured at the easel. “Without Ed, I’d still be starving in those awful trailers and selling my work on street corners. He’s the sweetest man. Have you met him?”

  Support? Was that what they called whoring these days? Or was I missing something? “I haven’t had the opportunity. I’m still dealing with the home situation. Esther doesn’t attend the parties either?”

  “Not since the fight with Mr. Paycock. And now I hear he may have been embezzling from the school as well as his job! That’s just doesn’t seem right. Everyone who works for the school supports Reverend Arden’s cause. Why would anyone steal from the park?”

  Was she really the airhead that she sounded? Probably—brains and talent didn’t guarantee common sense. I tested her knowledge a little more. “Maybe Rebecca knows where Esther is? I can’t find her either. Do you know how to reach her?”

  She sank further into the cushions. “I thought Rebecca had gone back to the school! Like I said, construction didn’t pay their interns well, and she had some kind of quarrel with the guy she’d been dating about the apartment he’d set up for her. Ed said she was a whack job, but I liked her.”

  She didn’t know Rebecca was dead? Wow, she lived in her own little world, which apparently didn’t include newspapers. I didn’t think I wanted to be the messenger who got shot for telling her, so I played dumb too. “Do you know who she’d been dating? Was he in construction? Maybe I can ask him.”

  She shrugged. “Big guy, surly attitude. He seldom came to the parties so she must have met him on the job. I don’t know what she saw in him except his fancy truck and boat. But they talked contracting together and went fishing. They would sometimes come here for drinks and to complain about how slow progress was on the park. They said we needed money coming in faster, and they’d talk about things I didn’t understand. They called him Bill, if that helps.”

  I rubbed my nose in irritation. I knew this space cadet had the answers to my questions buried somewhere in her oblivious skull. I just didn’t know how to drag them out without a police interrogation. And “Ed” would have her lawyered up if that happened.

  I had a sneaking suspicion I didn’t want Edward Parker III to know anything until we had our culprits in hand—because with this many loose connections and one dead embezzler, there could easily be more than one villain.

  I pulled another name out of my memory file. “Mrs. Overcamp will be unhappy to hear we’ve lost another student. I’m afraid the school will close soon.”

  Melissa’s eyes widened. “Mrs. Overcamp helped us all find supporters. Surely she knows where to find Rebecca and Esther! I thought maybe you didn’t want to ask her.”

  She started looking suspicious. I didn’t even know who Overcamp was except Julie had said she might have bugged her phone.

  “Since Reverend Arden was shot, she’s been inconsolable. I just didn’t want to bother her,” I improvised.

  “Reverend Arden was shot!” She jumped up and flung her long arms around in a kind of a gazelle-like panic. “That’s just wrong.” She paced up and down through the clutter. “No wonder Ed hasn’t called. . . . Oh, I just don’t understand any of this!”

  She swung around quickly. “The reverend is okay, though, isn’t he? He’s not like. . . not like Mr. Paycock?”

  I barely kept myself from rolling my eyes. “He’s in serious condition and not being allowed visitors.” Maybe scaring her was the way to go.

  “I need to talk to Ed. I don’t think I can help you anymore. I was going to do the concept artwork for the park, but this all sounds. . . I don’t know!” she wailed. “My friends have disappeared. People are getting shot! I don’t like it. You probably ought to go back to school and just keep your head down.”

  “But Mrs. Overcamp wants me and my roommate to go to a Christmas party on Friday. Are you saying we shouldn’t go?” I stood up, more than ready to leave, or I’d have to kill her out of frustration.

  “I don’t know anything! Give me your number, and if Ed says you shouldn’t go, I’ll let you know.”

  I handed her one of my old Linda Lane, teacher, business cards. “Please, keep in touch. We all need to stick together at times like this.”

  She almost looked grateful—and I suspected she needed friends. I also suspected she’d lose the card in the clutter the instant I walked out the door. I noticed a magnetic whiteboard on her stainless steel refrigerator and walked over and penned in the phone number there, underlining Linda several times.

  “Maybe I’ll see you Friday,” I said, heading for the door.

  She nodded and didn’t even look up from her phone as I let myself out.

  As I walked toward the Metro station, Graham texted me a mug shot of the gun guy from the hospital. A small time thug off the street, he had priors including assault and battery.

  Then Graham sent a second image showing the thug’s employment ID card from Gregory construction, the company building the park.

  My stomach started to roil as a few connections popped in place. I needed to whack myself upside the head for not seeing the obvious earlier.

  Chapter 21

  “Thank you for escorting us,” Julie said to the two uniformed poli
ceman standing at the trailer door as Maryam hurried in to pack her bags. “It is very disturbing to think a place of godliness is polluted by a murderer.”

  One shrugged and turned his steely-eyed gaze to the park. The other just nodded impatiently.

  Lucas pushed her toward the steps. “Pack and hurry it up. Maryam’s brother is waiting for her.”

  Maryam had finally broken down and given Julie her brother’s number. Ana’s magic genie in the attic had somehow summoned him to do his duty to his sister.

  “I packed my things already.” Julie squeezed past Lucas’s big body to address the policeman again. “May I run over to the classroom to collect my laptop?” She pointed at the two-story block building just down the road.

  “We can’t be in two places at once, miss,” the taller officer said disapprovingly.

  “You can see me walk over.” Unlike Zander, she didn’t have a little tablet with all her life inside it. The laptop was all she had.

  Lucas jumped down from the trailer steps and gestured at the officers. “If you’ll look after Maryam, I’ll go with Juliana. It shouldn’t take a minute. I have a key to the classroom.”

  The uniformed men looked relieved. Juliana wanted to have a tantrum but, accustomed to the attitude that she was a frail helpless female, she merely hurried down the road. Tantrums were wasted if she was getting her way.

  As they approached the concrete block building where classes were held, she could see the door was already open. She hesitated. “Did they not say the school was closed?”

  “Yes. Everyone was dismissed early for the holidays,” Lucas confirmed, halting with her.

  “I hear voices.” She glanced over her shoulder. One of the policemen was looking in their direction. She aimed for the side of the building, as if that had been her goal all along.

  Amazingly, Lucas didn’t argue. They walked past a ragged hedge where they couldn’t be seen and ducked down beneath a window.