Lloyd whined and hopped down from the table, leaving his breakfast unfinished as he trotted over to stand beside my aunt. The gesture of loyalty went unnoticed as Aunt Lucy continued to stare at Nina. It was as if Aunt Lucy was incapable of understanding Nina’s question. She just stood there, looking at Nina, while the girl grew increasingly flustered.
“I didn’t spy, if that’s what you’re thinking because, um, people have a right to do—Well, I mean, I just saw the limousine and then Cindy said—So, okay, maybe I called this girl I know and…”
When the cell phone in my pocket chirped, interrupting Nina with its loud ring, I don’t know which of the two of us was more grateful, me or Nina. She turned with an exaggerated show of interest and focused all of her attention on me.
It was Jake’s number on the caller ID and had it not been for our professional relationship and need not to die at Aunt Lucy’s hands, I would’ve let the thing go straight to voice mail.
“Yes?” I answered coolly.
“Where’s Nina?”
I frowned at the phone. “Sitting next to me.”
“Who’s watching Mrs. Blankenship?”
“Spike is. Why? Has something happened? Is Baby all right?”
At the mention of Baby’s name, Nina’s interest moved from pretend to panicked.
“Is Spike okay?” she interrupted.
Jake’s response was momentarily drowned out by the sound of sirens, loud and close by.
“Jake, what’s going on?”
“All hell’s breaking loose at Brookhaven Manor,” he said, raising his voice above the background noise. “They just found our two friends shot to death in their car. I gotta go.”
Jake hung up on me. I sat there for a stunned moment, still holding the phone to my ear while Nina became increasingly agitated.
“Where the hell is Spike? Ask him if she’s all right!”
I stood up, shoving the phone into my bathrobe pocket as I moved. “The two guys in the car weren’t sleeping,” I said. “They’re dead.”
I looked over at Aunt Lucy. “Listen,” I said. “I know you’re mad at me and Nina, but I think we just took something on that’s getting bigger than any case we’ve had before. I think we’re going to need your expertise. Will you please call a truce long enough to get this resolved and make sure everyone comes out alive?”
Aunt Lucy turned her back on me and switched off the heat on the front two burners of her ancient gas stove. When she turned around again, her cheeks were flushed and she was looking directly into my eyes.
“Why are you two still standing there? Get dressed! Go find Spike!” As we ran from the room, I overheard her talking to Lloyd and Fang. “Benito,” she said, calling Lloyd by my uncle’s name. “You can’t go with them. Fang and I need you need to stick with us.”
Five minutes later, Nina and I were circling the block that housed Brookhaven Manor, trying to figure a way through the phalanx of police cars, fire trucks and barricades that stood between us and Spike Montgomery, former Assistant District Attorney for Chester County, turned performance artist, turned part-time private attorney and employee of Valocchi Investigations.
“Pull over right there!” Nina cried, indicating an empty field. “I see somebody I know!”
Without hesitating, I drove my ancient white VW up over the curb and into what had once been pastureland for a farm. Nina had the window down and was waving frantically at a young police officer. “Beatlejuice!” she cried. “Hey!”
“Beatlejuice?” I echoed.
Nina didn’t look back at me when she answered. “Yeah, I dated him back in high school, before I quit the team.”
“Before you quit the team? What team?” Nina was the most unathletic girl I could think of.
“The blue team, silly!”
Then she was gone, sprinting across the field to the barricade that blocked the entrance to Brookhaven Manor. I followed her, watching as she grabbed the officer’s arm and began talking with great animation and gesturing toward the brick building behind him. He shook his head and seemed to be firmly insisting that he couldn’t help her, but Nina was not taking no for an answer.
“You married Louise, didn’t you?” Nina was saying. The way she asked the question made me wonder if Nina was about to commit a felony. When I heard the next statement, I knew we were about to go to jail. “Bobby, does Louise know about…” Nina stood on tiptoe and stretched to whisper something in the cop’s ear that made his face turn scarlet and his eyes widen.
“Nina!” Bobby the cop’s voice cracked like a kid in the throes of puberty. “You wouldn’t…”
Nina was all business. “I assure you I would. Now let us through!”
“I could lose my job!”
I almost felt sorry for the kid.
“Bobby, we’re with the medical examiner’s office!” Nina lied. “That’s all you have to say! See ya!”
She didn’t even wait to see if I was following her. Nina was going to get to her beloved Spike no matter what. The fact that there were more cops standing at the front door to the nursing home didn’t seem to factor into Nina’s awareness, and had Spike not been standing just a few feet in front of that doorway, talking to a plainclothes detective, I truly believe she would’ve plowed right on through the officers guarding the doorway.
“Hey!” Nina cried and began running toward Spike. “Hey!”
Spike turned, and for one split second her usually calm demeanor left her as the absolute need for Nina showed in her smile and the way her eyes lit up. As I watched, the two women ran toward each other and at the very last moment, stopped, suddenly aware of their surroundings, before greeting each other with a chaste hug. I stood back watching the brief interchange and felt a little piece of my heart break for them. It must be awful to be so much in love and yet unable to express it, even in a time when you most need comfort and support.
I would’ve fallen into Jake’s arms, relieved to know he’d found me, cradled by his strong, secure—Oh, hell! What was I thinking? Jake hadn’t even bothered to call me last night and I knew it wasn’t because he’d forgotten. I’d sensed there was a good reason to hold off on letting myself go with Jake, professionally or personally, and last night was just the sickening proof I needed.
I waited for Nina to release Spike before approaching and giving her a hug myself.
“What happened?” I asked.
Spike smiled ruefully. “I wish I knew. I relieved Nina around 6:30. Mrs. Blankenship was still sleeping and everything was quiet. Then, around 7:10, all hell broke loose.” She looked over her shoulder at the detective she’d been talking with when we arrived. “J.T.’s the lead assigned to the case. He said a call came in from the nursing home around 7:05 saying there were two men in a car, apparently shot to death. They got here, cordoned off the area and, as a precaution, called the fire and ambulance guys. I think the whole department’s a little jumpy. I mean, Glenn Ford doesn’t usually see more than six homicides a year and within the past forty-eight hours they’ve had three.”
“So, Bitsy’s death was definitely intentional?”
Spike’s expression was grim. “J.T. thinks so. But they’d no sooner gotten the body ready to ship off to the state crime lab for autopsy and positive identification when the feds showed up and claimed it.”
“What?”
Spike nodded. “They’re claiming jurisdiction because of the diplomatic tie-in. It doesn’t matter that Bitsy is the wife of a junior diplomat or was up here visiting family—because the plates were on the car, the government is claiming jurisdiction.” Spike gave me one of her raised-eyebrow, skeptical glances. “And, yeah, I think that’s weird, too.”
I scanned the area surrounding the nursing home. There was no sign of Jake, leaving me to wonder—if this was the most important event in our case, what else was so significant that he wasn’t here?
“Is Jake with Baby?”
Spike shook her head. “No. He called my cell and told me about the men
in the parking lot but didn’t say how he knew. He said he had somewhere to go but that he was going to call you and you’d decide what our next move is.”
Great. Once again, Jake had decided to act on his own and had bailed on me.
Marygrace Llewellen emerged from inside the nursing home looking haggard and pale. As she made her way toward us I found myself wondering how far she’d go to keep her favorite patient safe. Surely she wouldn’t shoot people just to prevent them from interviewing Baby. What a crazy thought! Still, Marygrace had always been a zealot for her causes. Stress and fatigue could make people impulsive and irrational. But not Marygrace.
When she reached us, she immediately grabbed my arm and drew me aside. “I think I made a mistake,” she said. “We’ve got to fix it.”
How was it that Marygrace just assumed I would jump to be her personal crisis resolution manager?
“What do you mean, fix it?”
Marygrace looked down at her feet for a brief moment before spilling the beans. “I just called Brenda Blankenship, Baby’s daughter. I just thought with all the hullabaloo, I should let her know about this latest turn of events. I mean, I’m legally obligated to inform her of anything that happens to Baby, or of any change in her condition, so really, I had to do it.”
I nodded, waiting for her to rush on in her customary fashion.
“Well, I certainly didn’t think she’d freak out like she did. I mean, it’s not as if she’s been over here more than once or twice this entire year, and she only lives five minutes away, but she just got hysterical.”
Nina and Spike were acting as if they weren’t listening, but it was obvious that they were. They stopped speaking and were almost leaning sideways to hear.
“I should’ve known better,” Marygrace said regretfully. “I mean, she’s just lost her daughter and now I have to tell her that her mother’s been robbed and I’ve hired private investigators. It was just too much for her.” Marygrace shrugged. “What else could I do? She was going to hear about those two dead men on T.V. anyway. If I hadn’t told her there could be a possible connection to her mother and then she found out on her own…” Marygrace shuddered. “Isn’t it amazing how people just drop their elderly family off like dry cleaning and then claim to be all upset when something happens?”
I patted Marygrace’s ample shoulder and tried to reassure her. “Baby’s fine. I’m sure her daughter was grateful to you for…”
“No, that’s just it! Brenda didn’t see it like that at all. She started talking about suing us and taking Baby out of Brookhaven Manor. She can’t do that! This is the only home Baby really knows…of course,” she mused, sidetracking, “she’d forget all about it in a day or so, but that’s beside the point. We love her here. Nowhere else would treat her as well as we do, I just know they wouldn’t!”
Jake’s unmistakable black Viper rounded the corner and slowly crept past the police barricade. I felt my stomach lurch as my pulse kicked up and sent an all-points bulletin to the rest of my body. No matter what I told myself, Jake Carpenter had gotten under my skin and there seemed to be no controlling my feelings for him.
“Now, Marygrace, I want you to remember that Brenda’s upset right now. She probably won’t remember half of what she’s said to you. I wouldn’t expect her to act on it, not with a funeral to plan. She’s overwhelmed and probably lashing out at anyone who crosses her path.”
Marygrace shook her head. “I wish I could believe that. I’ve just got a bad feeling about it. You should’ve heard her! I told her you and Jake were here watching out for her mother as a personal favor to me but that wasn’t good enough. She said she had connections and her mother didn’t need—” Marygrace broke off and looked at me apologetically. “You’re right, she was just upset.”
“What did she say, Marygrace? Tell me. I won’t get upset.”
“She said she didn’t want amateurs looking after her mother, and then she hung up on me!”
“Amateurs?” Nina cried, forgetting she was eavesdropping. “We’re not amateurs!”
Spike laid a hand on Nina’s arm in an attempt to calm her down before she drew too much attention to us, but Nina was just as adamant about her causes as Marygrace was about her own.
“I’ll have you know Stella caught one of the most notorious rapists in Florida, and Jake is a decorated former Special Forces operative. Our agency has more experience in its little finger than all the bodyguards and police officers in Chester County combined!”
“Nina!”
I gave her a dark look and turned my attention back to Marygrace, but she was already walking away, responding to a summons from a woman who stood framed in the open doorway of the nursing home.
“What do we do now?” Nina asked.
“We do just what we’ve been doing,” I answered. “We watch Baby. You go home and sleep. Spike, you stay here. If any of your police contacts find out anything, call me. In the meantime, I’m going back to the office. I think everything that’s happened to Baby can be tied directly to Bitsy’s visit. I need to find out what Bitsy’s been up to and what she might’ve brought with her that could’ve put her and her grandmother in danger.”
I looked at Nina and saw the anxiety in her eyes as she said goodbye to her girlfriend. “I’m worried about you, honey,” she was saying. “What if there’s more trouble?”
Spike smiled reassuringly. “Hey, you forget I can handle myself. I used to be a district attorney. We thrive on trouble. Besides,” she added, patting her black leather backpack, “I brought one of my girlfriends with me.”
Nina gave the backpack a suspicious once-over. “Which one?”
Spike whispered, “The Sig Saur, but don’t say anything. I sort of forgot to get a permit to carry concealed.”
This law-breaking streak in Spike seemed to meet with Nina’s approval because she smiled and nodded. “Good. Then I guess I’ll see you at home later, huh?”
The look they gave each other was sickeningly full of promise. Lovebirds! You wouldn’t see me getting that sappy over anybody. Not ever!
“Come on, Nina. You need your sleep and I’ve got business to take care of.”
I kept looking out for Jake as we walked back to the car, certain he’d be lurking around the corner, waiting for me. When there was no sign of him, I felt strangely let down. I told myself it wasn’t because I wanted to see him. No, it was more that I was anticipating the showdown that would come when I confronted him about being gone all night and not answering his cell phone. Jake Carpenter wasn’t going to be able to wiggle his way out of this one. Not this time!
Chapter 6
Jake wasn’t waiting for me at the office, either, but someone else was. A long, gray sedan with dark-tinted windows was parked across the street from the office. The diplomatic plates on the back of the car were a dead giveaway.
I drove past the car, pulled around to the back of the building and took the back stairs up to my office. Where in the hell was Jake? Without turning the lights on, I walked to the front window in the reception area and peeked through the slats in the blinds, down to the street below. What in the world was going on? Was the car waiting for me or for Jake?
I took a deep breath, exhaled slowly and decided I’d never know anything if I sat in a darkened office, thinking. I walked down the stairs to the front door, unlocked it, went back upstairs and began switching on every light in the suite. I checked the answering machine, saw we had no messages and was sitting at my desk pretending to work when I heard the downstairs door open softly.
One of the smartest investments Valocchi Investigations had made in the past few months was the purchase of a small hidden security video system. Without the newcomer knowing, I was able to switch on a monitor beside my desk and watch his slow ascent up to my second-floor office.
Bitsy Blankenship’s husband, David Margolies, was almost unrecognizable from the young, blond-headed wonder boy in the photographs I’d seen while researching Bitsy’s life since high school.
He trudged up the stairs slowly, his face gray with fatigue and I supposed grief. When he rounded the corner of the reception area, I was ready for him.
I looked up from my desk with an expression of polite inquiry on my face and smiled pleasantly.
“May I help you?”
Bitsy’s husband sighed. The bags under his large brown eyes made him look like a human basset hound. His cheeks sagged, seeming to drag his nose and ears along with them, making me wonder if David Margolies drank and ate too much too frequently.
“I’m looking for Jake Carpenter or Stella Valocchi. Are they around?”
I stood and walked around the desk to extend my hand. “I’m Stella.”
David Margolies wasn’t too tired or grief stricken to notice me. No. His eyes traveled the length of my body slowly before coming to rest on my face.
“I’ve lost my wife,” he said slowly. “And I was wondering if you could help me.”
His lanky frame seemed to shrink, and for a moment I thought his knees might give way.
“I’m so sorry,” I murmured. “Won’t you come into my office and sit down?”
I didn’t want him to know I knew who he was, so I couldn’t offer condolences without giving myself away. Most people who’ve “lost” someone in my business are looking to find them again when they come to see me.
I ushered him into the chair across from my desk, offered him water, which he declined and finally sat down in my safe, leather seat behind my battered antique lawyer’s table and waited.
After a few, seemingly interminable moments, my visitor began to speak again.
“My name is David Margolies. My wife, Bitsy, was on her way to New York from our home in D.C. two days ago.” He looked at me somberly.
I gasped convincingly, I hoped, and said, “Oh, I’m sorry! I had no idea Bitsy was your…”
“Is my wife,” he corrected. “You see, there’s been a terrible mistake. Bitsy’s not dead. I need to find her before something dreadful happens to her.”
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