Chapter 24
“What are the chances that Grenier has had a partner all along?” Wil asked. We were sitting in An Poitin Stil, waiting for our food. I had a pint of ale in front of me and an empty shot glass that had contained a fine Irish whiskey.
“This is the first evidence we’ve seen,” I said.
“The first overt evidence,” Devon said.
I stared at him. “What does that mean? Come on, Mr. Smart Guy. What do you know that the rest of us don’t?”
He glanced at Wil, who looked as puzzled as I felt, then said, “I know that Grenier is a chameleon. I also know that his old bosses say he’s a genius at logistics. But he’d have to be a bloody magician to pull off everything he’s done without getting caught. He’s always one step ahead of us. Like someone is telling him what we have planned.”
The autoserver dinged and our food started coming through the chute under the menu. After sorting it all out and taking my first bite, I said, “That’s not true. We surprised him at The Old Store the first time.”
“And how do you account for Libby surprising him and shooting him?” Wil asked.
We waited while Devon chewed a bite of his hamburger. After he swallowed, he said, “I can’t explain the first operation at the store, but he hightailed it out of there ahead of us today. He set up that bomb, and he couldn’t have had more than an hour’s warning because we didn’t know we were going over there.”
He took a drink of his beer, then leaned forward. “And as for Libby, she’s a wild card. No one knew she was going to Sandra Jorgenson’s place, nor did anyone know she was going to Lady Vivien’s. But Grenier knew where Donofrio would be at the wedding.”
I thought about it. “I didn’t know I was going to Sandra’s or Lady Viv’s. That was spontaneous.”
Devon looked smug. “Like I said, a wild card.”
“It would have to be a leak inside Entertaincorp,” Wil said. “Grenier doesn’t have any connections inside the police or Chamber Security.”
“You’ve checked?” I asked.
“Yes, I have. Quite thoroughly.”
The previous summer, the former head of security for the local Chamber of Commerce tried to have me killed, and his daughter did shoot me. A lack of proper vetting of the daughter was something Wil blamed himself for.
“Who inside Entertaincorp would want to help Grenier?” Devon asked.
Wil countered. “Or, alternatively, who hates Entertaincorp so much that they would help Grenier?”
“Stella Grenier, his mother.”
“That makes sense, but who’s she getting her information from?” Wil asked.
“John Tremaine. He has consistently denied that Grenier was responsible for the murders. He tried to get me discharged, and he scolded me for interviewing and upsetting Stella Grenier.” I thought about Tremaine’s attitude toward both Peter and Stella Grenier. “It’s possible that Tremaine and Stella were lovers at one time. He’s a little younger than she is, but she’s still a good looking woman. She practically told me that her husband wasn’t her daughter’s father, and Peter’s father said Stella stopped seeing him when she got pregnant with Peter.”
They both sat back and studied me. “That’s very interesting,” Wil said. I saw his eyes flick toward Devon, then back to me. “What else do you know that you haven’t shared with us or the police?”
“I have Grenier’s computer and tablet.”
Devon’s eyes looked as though they were going to bulge out of his head.
“And how long have you had those?” Wil asked.
“Quite a while. I also have a vid of him with Dr. Adams. The cameras weren’t aimed where he tortured her, but you can listen to the soundtrack. I planted the bugs in his house when I took the computers. Unfortunately, I was out chasing him around instead of monitoring my systems when he took Adams to his house, so it didn’t do any good.”
“At least we have evidence if we ever catch him.”
“We have that on his tablet. Olga Raskalova wasn’t his first kill. He recorded the girls he practiced on.”
“Dear God,” Devon breathed.
“It’s pretty ugly,” I said. “I haven’t watched very much of it, but it is evidence if you need it. I just couldn’t figure out how to tell Donofrio about it because he’d want to know how I got it.”
“The Chamber doesn’t have that problem,” Wil said, “and neither does Entertaincorp. I’ll take those from you. Okay?”
“Yeah. Handle them with gloves. Grenier’s fingerprints are still on them.”
I let them think about things while I tried to eat my lunch before it got cold. After a while I ordered another round of beers.
“With all of the Entertaincorp execs and their families and friends either dead or evacuated, what’s next?” Devon finally asked.
“Payback. Cleanup,” I said. “He took out Lady Viv. That leaves me, Donofrio, and Anna, if our theory about inside information is wrong. Who knows? Pong, maybe? Does Grenier have mommy issues we don’t know about? Stella said she hadn’t seen him in a year. Or maybe he tracks down his ex-wife.”
“In other words, we’re guessing,” Devon said.
“That’s what we’ve done with this guy all along. He’s totally unpredictable.”
I got a surprising call the next morning.
“Miss Nelson, this is Stella Grenier. I need to talk with you.”
“I’m at your service, Mrs. Grenier.”
“Not on the phone. Can you meet me at Le Petit Bistro? Let’s say, twelve-thirty?”
“Of course. I’ll see you there.”
I immediately called Wil. “Stella Grenier called and requested a meeting. I’ll need discrete cover.”
“Any idea what she wants?”
“None. Could be Petey wants to turn himself in. I assume she wants some sort of bargain for her little boy.”
“Libby, I was thinking about something last night. Other than the vid on his computers, and what you recorded at his house with Dr. Adams, is there anyone other than you who can identify him? I mean, are there any witnesses to any of the killings?”
I thought about it. “Not the killings, no, and I didn’t see him kill anyone. I saw him attack Sandra Jorgenson and Lady Viv, and Mike saw him with Lady Viv. I’m assuming you’re not considering the lycan kids or any other witnesses to Lady Viv’s death.”
“Theoretically, they could be used as witnesses. So, you and Mike. If Grenier doesn’t know about the recording when he killed Adams, he may want to take out the witnesses.”
“He could probably try to say the vids were faked,” I said. “I mean, if you have enough money and lawyers, you can get off for almost any crime.”
“Grenier doesn’t have that much money,” Wil said.
Le Petit Bistro was one of the fanciest places in town and a favorite for corporate wives to meet for lunch in the heart of the shopping district. While most people bought almost everything online, the very wealthy patronized dressmakers, hair stylists, cobblers, and jewelers who specialized in the care of those with more time and money than sense. Lunch for two at Le Petit Bistro could easily hit two hundred credits, and with more expensive wines and desserts, double that.
Wil was impossible to disguise, but Devon and several other Chamber operatives made reservations for lunch at Le Petit Bistro, too. Additional security surrounded the place. On purpose, Pong wasn’t informed.
The dress I appeared to wear was very atypical for me, but something I often wore, along with a different face, when I met clients. The type of clients who desired less-than-legal services. In actuality, I simply projected an image while I was dressed for combat.
Twelve-thirty was an unusual time for lunch, so I called the restaurant to confirm it. They told me that Stella had a reservation for two people at that time, and that she was a special and regular customer for them to hold a table for her.
For my purposes, it was fine. The place was crowded when I arrived, and almost no one paid any attentio
n to me. Stella came in less than a minute after I did, and we were immediately shown to a table that was out of the way but provided a good view of the whole room.
I ordered a glass of white wine, and Stella ordered that green liqueur she favored. The waiter brought our drinks and took our orders. As soon as he was out of earshot, Stella got right to the point.
“I’ve heard from Peter. He told me that he’s been in South America and just got back, only to discover his house was blocked off by the police and there’s a warrant for his arrest.”
“I see.”
“I didn’t know what to do. I called John Tremaine, and he suggested that I talk to you.”
“Why did he do that?” It was an honest question. I couldn’t figure out why either of them would reach out to me, considering their attitudes.
“Miss Nelson, do you know that during all this mess, you’re the only person who has come to see me? The only person who was interested in Peter? I expected the police would come asking questions, but they never did. If it wasn’t for you and John, I wouldn’t know anything that was going on. I see my son’s name in the news feeds, but no one bothered to tell me he is considered a criminal.”
“I understand how that would be upsetting,” I said. “I think that’s probably because Peter is an adult, and so no one wanted to bother you. So, what do you want me to do, Mrs. Grenier?”
“Peter is afraid that with the frenzy in the media, it might not be safe for him to turn himself in. I mean, he’s even been accused of killing policemen. He wants someone to help him negotiate his surrender.”
“Does he have any suggestions as to how we should do this?”
The waiter returned with our meals and refilled our drinks without asking, even though I knew refills on wine weren’t free. If you got the patrons hammered, they were unlikely to notice you were inflating the bill.
We ate, and I savored each bite like I was eating gold. When we finished, Stella ordered coffee and another drink and keyed the menu to display desserts. I stayed with just coffee.
“Peter wants to meet with you,” Stella said.
“Alone? That’s not going to happen. I can arrange for him to show up at a particular place at a particular time to turn himself in. That’s about all I can do.”
Her face froze. I couldn’t imagine any circumstance where I would assent to meet a serial murderer alone with only his assurance of my safety.
“I had hoped for more,” Stella said.
“Mrs. Grenier, I’m not the one with the problem. Peter really isn’t in a position to negotiate, and considering what he’s accused of, no one in their right mind would agree to meet him alone.”
“But what if he’s not guilty?”
“Then he needs to turn himself in and defend himself. I don’t know what he hopes to gain by meeting with me.” Actually, I could think of two things, but becoming a hostage only appealed in comparison to becoming a victim.
Punching up the bill, I paid for myself, and rose to leave. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Grenier, but I can’t help you. If Peter decides to turn himself in, please contact me.”
I made my way to the ladies’ room in the back, and called Wil. After relieving myself of the wine, I walked through the kitchen and out the back door. I hadn’t had a chance to use the new chameleon detector Dad cobbled together, so I tried it then. No detectable chameleons.
Wil pulled into the alley, and I got in the car.
“I think Grenier is somewhere in the area,” I said. “Probably watching the restaurant.”
“So, what do you want me to do?”
“Drive around the block. Slowly. Let’s see if I can spot him.” I lay the chameleon detector on the dashboard and pointed it through the windshield.
“What’s that thing?”
“A miniature nuclear missile launcher. I’m not taking any chances on him getting away this time.”
That earned me an open-mouthed gape, followed by an exasperated furrowed-brow, pursed-mouth expression, and ending in a glare.
Wil drove out of the alley, took a right, then another right to drive past the restaurant. I waved the detecter around, hoping something would happen. A taxi was parked across the street from the restaurant. No one was inside, but the driver’s side window was rolled down. I pointed the detector in that direction and saw a flickering—Grenier sitting there, waiting for me to come out so he could shoot me.
“That’s him in the taxi,” I said, adopting one of my stock personas of a middle-aged woman. “Keep driving. We’ll come back.”
Wil took the next left while giving instructions to his team. As soon as he took the corner and was out of sight, I lay a hand on his arm.
“Let me out. I’m going to give our boy a dose of his own medicine.”
“Be careful.”
“Always.”
I blurred my image as I slipped out of the car. Moving between parked cars to the wall of a building, I switched the detector to my left hand and drew my pistol with my right. Edging along the wall, freezing when someone turned the corner and walked past, I made my way around the corner and crept toward the taxi.
It was Grenier, all right. When I reached a place where I had a clear shot, I braced my back against the wall and raised my pistol.
Stella Grenier emerged from the restaurant across the street, looked around, then raised her arm and shouted, “Taxi!”
Grenier turned visible and I pulled the trigger as the taxi lurched forward. The bullet traveled through two of the taxi’s windows, but missed Grenier’s head. I rushed forward and fired again, shattering the front and back windows, but he turned the corner and sped out of sight.
Across the street, two of Wil’s team members grabbed Stella and took her into custody. In the confusion, I ducked behind a car and unblurred my form. Disappointed, I stepped toward the street. A pickup truck screeched to a stop, and the door opened.
“Get in! He’s getting away!” the driver shouted.
Without thinking, I leaped into the truck and pulled the door closed. The truck took off and whipped around the corner. I saw a taxi in front of us.
“That’s him. Floor it,” I yelled.
The driver did. I turned to see who it was and discovered my partner was John Tremaine.
Chapter 25
“Drop your pistol out the window.”
I looked down at the pistol pointed at me and did as Tremaine directed.
“Slowly take the strap of your bag over your head and hand it to me.”
I did that as well. Tremaine flipped the truck to robot controlled, then grabbed my bag and tossed it into the back seat.
“Keep your hands in plain sight.” He leaned back, but kept the pistol aimed at me. His hand was steady. “Relax. We have a long drive ahead of us.”
A little too late, I realized I was riding in a blue pickup.
“I thought you were in Pittsburgh,” I said.
“Winnipeg,” he said with a smile. “I will be heading there soon. I have an old girlfriend I want to visit.”
“Oh? Is that where Marlene is?”
The smile died. “Your problem is you’re too smart. That’s a very dangerous trait in a woman.”
“What’s the equivalent fault in a man? Ambition?”
He chuckled. “Probably.”
“What I don’t get, is you’re the one who fired Grenier. Why is he playing puppet for you?”
With a cold smile that didn’t reach his eyes, Tremaine said, “I’m a corporate man. I do what I’m told, even if I don’t like it. But if I was in charge, I could do what I thought was right. Too bad I’m not in charge.”
If cynicism and ambition were the necessary skills to climb the corporate ladder, Tremaine had enough of both for a dozen men.
“I understand assassinating Carleton Weeks, but why the others? Why the families?”
“I’m the youngest. O’Malley would be the first in line for Weeks’s job. I need to have enough of them out of the way to make sure I get the promotion.�
��
“But Grenier never went after O’Malley.”
Tremaine’s smile was as cold as ice. “I have documentation showing that O’Malley hired Peter to assassinate Weeks. Unfortunately, he hired a psychopath who went berserk.”
“That’s pretty convoluted.”
He shook his head. “I had to give Peter some kind of incentive. Richard has no daughters, and his wife has no allure. Besides, it’s been very interesting to watch the whole circus. It’s been better than sticking a pole in a bee’s nest.”
“Sandra?”
“I was tired of the bitch. You screwed that one up. I went to see her in the hospital. He completely ruined her. She’ll never be the same. You should have let him kill her. Besides, Anna is a lot better in bed. ”
He suddenly laughed. “After that, I had to see him do it.”
I shuddered. “You watched him butcher those women?”
“Not at first. But when I saw the pictures of Camille Weeks and Sigrid Goldberg, I couldn’t get the images out of my mind. God, what a rush! Such power! I had a hard on for a week after we did Kandi.”
I wanted to throw up, but I was afraid he’d shoot me. “Where are we going?” I asked.
“It doesn’t matter. A safe place.”
A safe place for him and Grenier. A safe place to kill me. I tried to relax and watch where we were going. Heading northwest.
We drove through the suburbs and left the city. We were on a small highway, but not something I would call a main road. Half an hour later we turned onto a smaller road with forest to our right.
“Pretty place,” I said.
“Yes,” Tremaine answered. “It’s a conservation reserve. Beautiful place to go hiking.”
Probably a good place to hide bodies, too. One thing I was sure of, unless I startled him, he wasn’t going to shoot me inside the truck. No one wants to go through that kind of cleanup. So I was safe until we stopped. Once I got out, all bets were off.
Eventually, we turned off onto a smaller road, and then past a mailbox onto what appeared to be a driveway.
“Your country place?” I asked.
“Yes.”
Chameleon's Challenge (Chameleon Assassin Series Book 3) Page 20