The men shifted uneasily, looked down at their feet.
Jay joined Kasey in the doorway.
The guard who had answered the cellular phone said, “Mr. King, someone by the name of Saget is on the line. He says you and he got disconnected. Wants to know if there are any new instructions.”
“Tell him to drop the stakeout. He’s tailing the wrong man.” Jay ran fingers through his thick hair. “Then call the police. Ask them to contact Detective Loweman.”
Dianne whirled around, as though to protest; then perhaps thinking better of it, she marched back into the bedroom, pushing Kasey and Jay aside, spilling scotch.
“Andrews isn’t our man?” Kasey asked.
Jay shook his head. “He never left his apartment tonight. He drives an old faded Pontiac not a black Camaro. Guess your gut feelings were right on.”
“Cars. Gut feelings. Who cares? When is someone going to care about me?” Dianne said angrily. She strode to the mirrored closet, turned, lifted the hem of the kimono, and examined the bloody area at the top of her buttock.
From across the room, Kasey saw a cut in the shape of a crescent. Given the sparse amount of blood which was already clotting, the wound looked superficial.
“That bastard,” Dianne said. “That fucking bastard. He branded me. It’s bound to scar. I’m going to be scarred from this.” She strode to the bed, tossed down the liquor, then threw the heavy glass at the large plate mirror, shattering it.
Jay went to her. He again tried to put his arms around her, but Dianne jerked away. “What happened, Dianne? How did he get in?”
“You tell me. You tell me why you went waltzing out of here in the middle of the night, leaving me all alone. Alone and unprotected. Where the hell were you?”
“I couldn’t sleep. I went for a swim. But before I left I double-checked security. I made certain—”
“Made certain of what? That I was in good hands?”
“I thought so, yes.”
She turned on Kasey with fire in her eyes, “And where were you, my good friend? Enjoying a little dip, too?”
Kasey’s eyes met Jay’s. How had Dianne known?
As if reading her mind, Jay said to Kasey, “He was in the monitor room tonight. He was watching the pool.”
“So it’s true,” Dianne said. “He said the two of you were together. Said it was all on tape.”
“Nothing happened, Dianne, and the tape will prove it.” But even as Kasey said the words she realized that the tape could be incriminating. Jay nude. The two of them huddled together at one point in the Jacuzzi. And if that weren’t enough, there was the intimate moment that had passed between them; Kasey was sure it spoke volumes. Although Jay had come to his senses and pulled away, Kasey had not. Even in the dimly lighted room, on a black-and-white tape, any fool would be able to see the magnetic attraction between them. And Dianne was no fool.
“Can we put that aside for now?” Jay requested curtly. “There’ll be plenty of time for accusations and recriminations later. Right now, tell me what happened. Who was he? What did he say and do?”
Dianne didn’t seem eager to drop the subject. “I want to know—”
One of the guards rapped lightly on the bedroom door frame, interrupting her. “Sir, Detective Loweman.” He held out the cellular phone.
Jay took the phone. “Frank, sorry to bother you at home. Can you come right over? We’ve had some trouble.” He glanced at the two women, then turned his back to them and said quietly, “The bastard who was at the house the other day—he got into the suite tonight. He assaulted Dianne. No, no, but Christ, he cut her.”
As Jay spoke to the detective, Kasey felt Dianne’s eyes on her. She turned, faced her, and in a hushed tone said, “Dianne, nothing happened. I swear. It’s not what you think.” Even as she spoke the words, Kasey felt a sense of guilt and betrayal. It’s worse than you think, she said to herself, I’m in love with your husband. Nothing happened because Jay didn’t let it happen. Tonight, if he had wanted to make love to me, I wouldn’t have tried to stop him. I would have welcomed it with every fiber of my being.
“What I think, what I know, is that the two people I thought I could count on were nowhere around when I needed them.”
It suddenly occurred to Kasey that Dianne’s anger had little to do with Kasey’s possible involvement with Jay. She was upset that she had been left alone.
“Dianne, I think you’re being unfair to Jay. His being here may not have made a difference. We’re not dealing with your typical criminal. This man is determined. He has a purpose. He’s playing with Jay. Playing with all of us. And he’s not going to stop until he gets what he wants.”
“He wants me.”
“Is that what he said?”
“He said he’d be back. I believe him.”
“Would you feel safer somewhere else?”
“What’s safe? He’s been in my house and now here. Where would I be safe? Kasey, that man is bad.” Dianne grabbed Kasey’s hand in both of hers and squeezed. Her eyes were filled with fear. “He’s real bad. He got a kick out of cutting me, scaring me. God only knows what he would have done if Jay hadn’t interrupted him. He’s coming back. I know it.”
“He won’t get to you, Dianne. You have my word.” She brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen across Dianne’s eye. “Go splash some cool water on your face. It’ll make you feel better.”
Dianne went into the bathroom and closed the door.
“What’s going on?” Brad asked from the doorway.
*
While the family doctor tended to Dianne, Jay called the chief of security with instructions to mount a security camera at the suite’s entrance without delay. He ordered around-the- clock plainclothes surveillance officers to occupy the rooms adjoining the suite. They were to act as personal bodyguards to Dianne. Jay considered blocking off the entire floor for himself and his party, but that meant putting registered guests out on the street and into a town where all the hotels were booked to capacity.
Thirty minutes later, Frank Loweman arrived. After interviewing the surveillance man who had been staked out in the room adjacent to the ice machine, Loweman excused everyone but Kasey and the family.
“Nobody saw him,” Loweman said. “Neither coming nor going.”
Jay turned to Loweman. “You have the wrong man behind bars for murder, Frank. The man who assaulted Dianne tonight is the one you want. The one who killed those women.”
“Now we’ve been over this before, Jay. Even if I agree with you, the chief is convinced it’s Ruiz. The punk has a damn impressive sheet. Drugs, theft, assault and battery, possession of stolen property. The D.A.’s office seems to think they have a pretty solid case,” Loweman said. “But, look, I promised you I’d keep an open mind. Right? If we find any substantiating evidence to go along with what you’re saying, I’ll take it to the brass. Meanwhile, Ruiz is it.”
“You’re wasting time.”
“Jay, if this guy tonight was a cold-blooded murderer, why didn’t he just kill Dianne? Why stop at a little cut?”
“He has a game plan. It started with threats and harassment and it’s escalating. He tried to run my chief of operations off the road and he followed Kasey late one night, chasing her across town and back. Two people got in the way and he killed them. They were dispensable. He feeds off the terror, the uncertainty. Like with Dianne tonight. When he’s tired of playing, I have no doubt he’ll make his final move.”
Kasey shuddered inwardly. She was dispensable. Was she next? And what about Brad? Yes—what about Brad?
She looked over at Brad who, for a change, had hardly opened his mouth since coming into the room. With a bottle of mineral water in hand, he had taken a position at the far end of the room. What if the killer’s target were not Jay, but Dianne? she wondered. Dianne and Howard Cummings? Both had claimed to be victims of violence, both had been threatened. And both had a vested interest in the club. It was rumored that Jay was about to offer Cummi
ngs a piece of the action. Which could explain Brad’s animosity toward the club’s CEO. And Dianne, of course, as Jay’s wife, shared his percentage. With Dianne and Cummings out of the picture, Brad stood to one day inherit the controlling interest.
“Another threat came in the mail today. A bomb threat this time,” Jay told Loweman.
“I want it and any others.”
The doctor finished treating Dianne and left. Dianne, pale and drawn, reluctantly joined the others in the living room. She insisted on a drink before she would say a word. After tossing down another scotch, she told them what had happened.
Loweman asked, “Was he wearing gloves?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t see him at all?”
“How many times do I have to say it? I was sound asleep when he grabbed me. It was dark. He had me on my stomach with my face turned away from him. I only saw his hand when he stuck the phone in my face.”
“You have no idea who this man is?”
“No. Why should I? I don’t hang out with thugs, and no one I know would accost me in my bedroom in the middle of the night to…to carve on me.”
“Dianne, that’s not what Frank meant,” Jay said patiently.
“I know what he meant.” Dianne thrust her empty glass at Kasey and said, “Get me another.”
Before Kasey had a chance to refuse, Jay took the glass from Dianne and gently set it on the table.
“Did security run a check on the memory lock?” Loweman asked Jay.
“No, it’d be a waste of time. It’s either a maid, guest, or master key which, in any case, would be unauthorized. We know he has access.
“He’s shrewder than I thought,” Jay added. “Shrewder than we are, anyway. He used the stairwell, which automatically locks from the inside. If he can get by the surveillance cameras and security, if he can get around this hotel undetected, he’s either invisible or he’s one helluva escape artist. We know he’s clever, tonight he was also lucky. I left Dianne alone with the deadbolt disengaged. This wouldn’t have happened if I’d stayed in.”
“Here. Here,” Dianne muttered as she struggled to her feet.
She snatched up her glass and advanced to the bar, her steps stiff, wobbly.
“Dianne…” Jay said.
She turned her back to him. As she poured the scotch, the bottle slipped from her trembling fingers and tipped over on the bar, spilling scotch over the black-lacquered surface. She watched it gurgle out and flow down onto the plush eggshell carpet. Suddenly, the tough exterior shattered. Dianne broke down and cried. Covering her face with her hands, she sank to the floor in a tight crouch and wept.
Jay went to her. He gently lifted her and carried her into the bedroom.
Kasey rose from the couch and, without a word to anyone, left the suite.
*
The Monk settled himself into the corner of the tiny, dark room. After fleeing the King suite, he had furtively made his way to the second floor, to the room off the now-unused catwalk where he had hidden the bloody clothes after he’d killed the hotel maid. The clubhouse.
Security would be watching all the exits. He had a better chance of getting out of the hotel undetected if he laid low until morning.
His head hurt. Damn sinuses.
He reached into his shirt pocket for his nose spray. The pocket was empty. He patted the other side, then shifted around to reach into his pants pockets. The sprayer was gone. He had lost it somewhere.
His heart thumped rapidly. He crawled around the tiny room searching. Think. Think, he told himself. Where could it have fallen out? He had used it in the stairwell just before entering the floor of the King suite. It had to be somewhere between this room and the suite.
He crouched, his head in his hands, his fingers squeezing, trying to ease the building pressure behind his eyes. It was too risky to go out and look for it now. Forget it. Even if someone found it, he doubted if it could be tied to him. Any fingerprints would have been smudged or worn away by his leather gloves. It was over-the-counter shit, a popular brand used by scores of people. Forget it.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Kasey had stripped the bed in Sherry’s room, and she and her mother were making it up with bright floral sheets which smelled of sunshine and fresh air. It was Tuesday, the day Marianne Atwood cleaned the boardinghouse and changed the bedding in all the rooms.
Of all the boarders, Sherry was by far the least fastidious. Clothes hung from lamp shades, doorknobs, curtain and shower rods. Books, magazines, and notepads covered every flat surface of the room. The bathroom was cluttered with female paraphernalia. Female roomers, Marianne often theorized, were never as neat as male roomers, and Sherry and Kasey were living proof. But since both women contributed extensively to the household in a variety of ways, their messy habits were tolerated good-naturedly by Marianne.
“I rented the room, you know?” Marianne said, pulling on a clean pillowcase as she looked out the window in Sherry’s room. “He’s moving in today. It was difficult to decide between the two. Both seemed like reli—Oh, damn that stupid dog. Kasey, look what he’s done now.”
She joined her mother at the window. In the yard below, Snickers had tipped over his water pan, chased a rivulet of water down the dirt slope and, where it puddled at the bottom, he gleefully rolled in it, covering his thick fur with mud.
“He’s going to get mud all over the clean sheets.”
Kasey gathered up a large mound of bedding. “I’ll get these into the machine and tie him up.”
“Make sure it’s far from the clothesline. I don’t need to do a double wash today.”
She watched her mother crouch on the balls of her feet, lift the mattress at one corner and tuck in the bedding with brisk, no-nonsense motions. A strand of gray hair fell across her eye and she blew it away. Everything she did, she did with determination, putting her all into it. It occurred to Kasey that she couldn’t remember the last time she had seen her mother relaxed, with absolutely nothing to do.
Clutching the bedding to her chest, Kasey said, “Ma, when was the last time you were out to dinner?”
“You mean in a restaurant?”
“Um-hum.”
“Phooey, who has time?”
“You would if you wanted it. You create your own frantic little world here. You’re always starting something and you won’t quit till it’s finished.”
Marianne looked at her daughter as though she had begun talking in a foreign tongue.
“Now don’t give me that look. Everybody needs time out.”
“Look who’s talking.”
“My point exactly. What are you doing tonight?”
“Ironing. It’s Tuesday”
Not tonight you aren’t. Tonight, I’m treating you to a movie and dinner.”
Marianne stared a moment longer, then shook her head as if to clear it and said, “Don’t be silly, Kasey, I have—”
“No arguments. I’ll pick the movie; you pick the restaurant afterward. Ma, it’ll be fun.”
“Oh, honey, I don’t know. Don’t you have to work?”
“They can do without me for one evening. I’ve been at the club every day for eight days. I sleep there, eat there; I’ll be back there again tonight. I could use a break, too.”
“Well, in that case.” Marianne smiled at her daughter. “Okay.”
“Good.”
“What would I wear?” Marianne ran a callused hand through her short gray hair and looked down at herself.
“It’s the 90’s, Ma. Anything goes.” Kasey smiled and started out the door.
“Kasey?”
“Yes?”
“By any chance did you read your horoscope this morning?”
Kasey shook her head.
“While you’re down there have a peek at it. Paper’s on the table.”
“Why don’t you just save me the trouble and tell me what it said?”
“Read it,” Marianne said, turning away to smooth out the bedspread.
Spend time doing something fun with a loved one this evening. Kasey grinned. It wasn’t as if she invited her mother—or her father, for that matter—out on a regular basis. She couldn’t remember the last time she had spent an evening with either of them doing something fun. Okay, so it was about time. She read on. Someone with love in his heart thinks of you tonight. She straightened slowly. This was ridiculous, she told herself if she weren’t careful, she might begin to take this seriously, advancing from basic astrology into tarot cards and palm reading, unable to make a move without consulting one or other divine medium.
After loading the washing machine, she filled a heavy clay bowl with water and set it out by the shed. Snickers, seeing Kasey, bounded to his feet and raced to greet her. She managed to get the tether on him without getting too muddy, then she made a dash for the house. She made it back inside just as he careened against the door with a shuddering, house-jarring thump.
Danny, seated at the table, looked up from his paper-folding. “Fly the friendly skies,” he said.
George stood at the sink peeling a fresh peach. “What’s scary is that that mutt is still just a pup. The way he’s growing, he’s gonna eat your mama right to the poorhouse.”
“Too bad he can’t survive on fruit and honey.”
“Nut ‘n’honey,” Danny said.
Kasey leaned down to inspect one of George’s tacked-up photographs—a classic one of the Truckee River during spring thaw, overflowing the banks and flooding downtown Reno. “How’s the book coming along? Making any progress?”
“It’s getting there, slow but sure.” He leaned over and snatched a picture from the refrigerator, “Now, how did that one get there? One of the last people I’d want in my picture book would be a crook like Doyle. Damn riffraff.”
“Ansel Doyle?”
“Yeah. Must’ve picked it out because of the governor. See.” He showed the photo to Kasey. “There he is alongside the governor and the attorney general. Just having a man with Doyle’s shady reputation standing that close to government officials tends to make them all look bad.”
Mortal Crimes 2 Page 122