“Speak for yourself, I haven’t lost my edge. We might be able tofool them, though. I never thought I’d live to see the day when I’d say our old age might serve us in good stead. We’ll need to mention our age from time to time. All we need to do is act vague, hard of hearing, and maybe drool a little. Severe memory loss should work well. I wonder if thefibbies, that’s what they call FBI agents, call to make an appointment before they show up. Maybe they’ll get frustrated and leave us alone. If not, we suck it up, then split for parts unknown. I have no intention of going to jail for Marcus Gunn after what he did to our sister. Why don’t you bring out some snacks. I’m starving. We need some more beer, too. It’s your turn, Ducky. Bring the tub and fill it with ice from the ice maker.”
Diddy returned with Ducky, each holding a bowl of snack chips. “Trixie and Fred don’t think Marcus’s speech is clear enough to make the call yet. I talked to him myself, and I agree. By tomorrow most of the sedatives should be out of his system. He…he thanked us for…forsnatching him. He was laughing. Do you believe that?”
“That’s mighty good of him,” Dodo snapped.
“Yeah, mighty good,” Ducky agreed.
“Now what?” Diddy asked as she flopped down on one of the wicker rockers.
“Now we sit here and wait for something to happen,” Dodo replied.
The time was four-thirty in the afternoon, twenty-eight and a half hours since the sisters snatched Marcus Gunn.
15
Russell Gunn’s girlfriend Claire opened the door of the town house to Darby and Ben. She offered up a wan smile. “Before you ask, I’m okay. I’m going to the YWCA to take a quilting class. It’s something to do. Jason and Mickey are in the study waiting for you. If you leave before I get back, lock the door, okay? I might go with some of the girls to get a drink or maybe coffee. It’s just more hours to kill, so I don’t have to think. By the way, how’s Willie?”
“Willie’s fine. Do what you have to do, Claire. I’ll call you in the morning, and we’ll talk. If you’re up for breakfast, let me know.”
Jason and Mickey looked like the computer nerds they were. Tall, lanky, sloppy dressers, eyeglasses, and long, skinny fingers. They were playing a computer game when Darby and Ben walked into the office. They clicked off the game and nodded at the introductions. Then they listened attentively to Ben’s instructions. “Can you do it?”
Both young men, nineteen if they were a day, shrugged. Both flexed their fingers as they sat down at Russell’s computer. The one named Mickey hooked up his laptop, then fanned out the papers Ben had provided.
“Sorry about Russ, man. He was a good friend.” Ben nodded. “Some popcorn and a couple of beers would taste real good right now,” the one named Jason said. “Not to be rude or anything, but we work best with no distractions.”
“I guess that means you want us to disappear after we fetch the popcorn and beer, is that it?” Ben asked. There was no response, the two young men were locked in another world, one that didn’t include Ben or Darby.
In the kitchen, Darby went to the small pantry for the popcorn. Sensing Ben’s eyes on her as she moved easily around the kitchen, she said, “I was always the one who made the popcorn. Claire made the egg rolls, the kind you buy frozen and heat in the oven, and Russ opened the beer. Then we’d watch videos. It seems like so long ago.”
Ben opened the refrigerator expecting to see empty shelves, forgetting that Claire had already moved in. Instead he saw a roasted chicken, a ham, all kinds of vegetables and fruit, milk, and juice. The shelves on the door were full of wine and Lane beer. He uncapped two bottles and set them on a tray. “Do you think those two guys are going to have any luck?” he asked.
Darby slit the popcorn bag with a knife, waiting for the steam to escape before she poured it into a bowl that was shaped like a watermelon. “I bought this bowl for Russ so he’d have some color in the kitchen.” Her voice was so sad, Ben blinked. “But to answer your question, I don’t know. The one named Mickey hacked into the Pentagon’s mainframe somehow one time. According to Russ, he didn’t look at a thing, he got out as quick as he got in, but he did manage to breach their security. I guess it will depend on what kind of firewalls are in place to prevent hacking. I’m sure their safety programs are good but not on the caliber of the Pentagon. Like Russ always said, there’s always a back door to those programs, you just have to know how to open it. If there is a way for them to access the donor list of the recipients who received Russ’s organs, these guys will find it. It’s personal for them because they adored Russ.”
Ben took the tray and carried it into Russell’s study. Neither young man looked up, keeping their eyes glued to the huge flatscreens in front of them, their fingers tapping ninety words per minute. He closed the door when he left.
Back in the kitchen he found Darby wiping at her eyes with a kitchen towel. Ben didn’t know what to do, so he sat down and stared at Darby across the table. He, too, felt like crying. He bit down on his lip.
“Want to go for a walk, Ben?”
Ben sighed in relief. He couldn’t bear to see Darby cry and welcomed anything that might cheer her up. “Sure. I saw a running trail when we were here the other day; let’s check it out.”
“Ben, I want to thank you again for helping me in this…this endeavor. I know initially you didn’t want to find the recipients. I’m so grateful that you were able to come around to my way of thinking. We both need the closure, so let’s hope and pray the boys are successful. If they aren’t…well, I guess we’ll just have to live with not knowing.”
Ben nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
Hand in hand, they started out. They walked until they were tired, then started back to the recreational area, where they sat down on a wrought-iron bench. Darby laid her head on Ben’s shoulder. “I don’t want to come back here. It’s too painful.”
Ben squeezed her hand in sympathy. He felt a lump form in his throat. He tried to clear it, but it seemed lodged for good. Finally, he was able to mumble, “Darby, just so you know, we’re really flirting with trouble here, hiring these guys to hack into the donor database. The feds always come into play when someone hacks into something they aren’t supposed to. They’re right there when one of those hackers spreads a virus. On top of that, the Bureau is going to be looking into my father’s disappearance. This little nucleus we’re in is going to raise all kinds of flags. I’m all for pouncing on the aunts to get things cleared up. I also had another thought, which was to call Trixie McGuire and ask to speak to my father. Just to see if that will shake some apples from the tree. What do you think, Darby? I know in my gut, and you know, too, that the aunts snatched Dad and stashed him with Trixie and Fred.”
A vision of the five old people being led off in handcuffs caused Darby to bolt upright. “I want to say yes, do it, but something tells me we should wait. Call it gut instinct, but I think the aunts can handle it. Stop and think about it, Ben. Even if they did snatch him, and we aren’t a hundred percent sure about that, all it will take is your father saying he walked off on his own. The FBI won’t be happy with the wasted man-hours, but the aunts will be home free. What you and I and those two guys in the house are doing scares me more.”
Darby gasped. “I hadn’t once thought about getting caught, Ben. Do you think there’s any other way we can find out who got Russ’s organs?”
Ben shook his head. This is the only way, Darby; we’ve tried finding out the legal way. I can call them off. And then you have to let it go. Really let it go. If Jason and Mickey get caught, we go to jail, that’s a given. Our family names won’t help us one bit. What do you want to do?”
Darby looked up at the star-filled night, felt the warm summer air on her bare shoulders. Overhead the trees rustled with the faint breeze. If she went to jail it would be a long time before she saw another night like this. She wouldn’t be able to lay her head on Ben’s shoulder or squeeze his hand. It would be years before she’d be able to walk in a warm spring ra
in. Her custom-built-dollhouse business would go down the tubes. No one would want to hire a jailbird.
Darby looked up at Ben. “I want to continue. I have to do everything I can to honor Russ’s wishes. Well, not wishes exactly. Russ didn’t want to be an organ donor. He made a will to the effect and he trusted me to carry out his wishes so that would never happen. Thanks to Bella, that didn’t happen. So in that sense, I failed my dearest friend in the whole world. All I know, Ben, is this, I need to know who received his organs so I won’t feel like I failed Russ. I don’t know if you’ll understand this, but when someone trusts you with…with their life, you have to take that trust seriously. What kind of person would I be if I just shrugged it off and went about my business? I don’t want to spend the rest of my life regretting that I didn’t do anything. If we get caught, I’ll take all the blame. I won’t involve you or the guys.”
“Like hell. Those two guys know what they’re getting themselves into; they’re willing to take the risk for Russ. We’re all in this together. Don’t get your hopes up, though. Let’s go back to the house to see what’s going on.”
Bella Gunn looked at herself in the vanity mirror. She mentally ticked off the things that were a nightly ritual. Flossing. Night cream. Hair wrap and hairnet to protect herpoufy hairdo. A spritz of cologne to her nightgown. Another spritz to her pillow, and she was ready for sleep.
Within minutes she was ready to slip between the satin sheets she loved so much. She hoped she would have a dreamless sleep. She hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks because of all the stress in her life. She sighed wearily as her gaze went to the little white desk in the corner of her room where the forms for the Garden Club rested. How she’d anguished over those forms, Harriet Lane’s words echoing in her ears that each and every fact would be checked and double-checked. Just about everything on the form was a lie. Would she be tripped up or not? And, why hadn’t Harriet Lane stopped by to pick up the forms like she said she was going to do? Probably because of Marcus’s disappearance. Everyone in this damn place was so polite it was sickening.
Bella almost jumped out of her skin when the phone on her night table chimed softly. Harriet Lane calling to apologize about not picking up the forms? Who else could it be? No one ever called her this late in the evening. Finally, on the fifth ring, she reached out to pick up the receiver. “Hello,” she said coolly.
“Bella?”
Bella’s jaw dropped. She would have recognized her husband’s gravelly-sounding voice anywhere. “Marcus!” Her mind raced. What if her line was tapped. Such a ridiculous thought. Why would anyone tap her phone. Still, it paid to be cautious. “Darling, Marcus, where are you? What happened? Did you wander off? The police and the FBI are looking for you. Good Lord, Marcus, you gave us all the fright of our lives.”
“Cut the crap, Bella, I don’t want to hear it. I’m just calling you to tell you to call off the police. I’m going to call them myself in the morning, so I’ll know if you called them or not. What I’m really calling to tell you is this. I finally came to my senses and your threats to expose me no longer scare me. A private detective I hired,” he lied, “has told me he located your old nurse friend, and she is prepared to recant what you’ve been holding over my head for years. It’s all over, Bella. I can hear all those dreams of yours gurgling down the drain. Sleep well, Bella.”
Bella stared at the phone in her hand. Did she just hear what she thought she heard? Of course she did. Marcus was alive and well and threatening to expose her. She’d be the laughingstock of Baton Rouge. She started to cry. All her dreams were within her grasp. So close. And now with one phone call, those dreams were dashed.
Bella allowed herself five full minutes of panic before she straightened her shoulders. Maybe not. She raced over to the little white desk where she fumbled for her address book. She flipped through the pages until she found the name Alice Avery.
Even though it was close to midnight, Bella punched out the numbers with a long, painted nail and waited as the phone rang on the other end of the line.
In Rayne, the K-9 was on his feet the minute Marcus Gunn swung his legs over the side of the bed and picked up the phone. He trotted down the hall to Trixie’s room, jumped on the bed, and nudged her till she woke up. “What’s wrong? Something’s wrong, Fred, wake up. What is it, baby? Come on, show me.” Flash leaped off the bed and raced down the hall to Marcus’s room, Trixie and Fred trailing behind.
“Oh, God, Fred, you don’t think…”
“Shhh, Trixie, don’t even think about it.”
Husband and wife stood in the open doorway just as Marcus slammed down the phone. Trixie and Fred both heaved a huge sigh of relief. Marcus turned to look at them, a grim smile on his face. “We need to talk. Let’s go down to the kitchen and have some coffee.”
“Marcus, it’s after midnight. Are you sure you’re up to this? Can’t it wait till morning?” Fred asked.
“No, it can’t wait. I need to clear my conscience, and I damn well need to do it now. I can handle the stairs as long as I take them one at a time. I’m not an invalid. What I am is a damn sorry, poor excuse for a human being.”
Trixie shivered in the cool air-conditioning. She stopped in her room for her old flannel robe and slippers while Fred helped Marcus down the long staircase. Flash nuzzled up against her, waiting for Trixie’s praise. Trixie didn’t disappoint him. She stopped at the top of the stairs and sat down on the first step. Flash sat next to her, his huge head in her lap. “You did real good, big guy. The best thing I ever did in my whole life, aside from marrying Fred, was to buy you from the police department. The day you came into our lives was a special day, so special that Fred and I don’t know what we’d do without you.” Flash tried to crawl into her lap. He loved it when Trixie’s voice dropped to a whisper as though she were telling him a secret. He lifted his head so Trixie could hug him. He whined softly, knowing instinctively that the tears rolling down her cheeks were happy tears. He licked them away and waited for his second hug. After the second hug they always got down to business. This time was no different.
Fred already had the coffee on when Trixie and Flash appeared in the kitchen. Marcus was chomping on a piece of toast as Trixie walked over to the kitchen table and sat down. Flash walked around the kitchen until he was satisfied nothing out of the ordinary was going to happen. Trixie reached across to the shelf and got a dog chew, a greenie, and handed it to the big shepherd. He woofed softly as he carried it over to the door and lay down. He woofed again in thanks.
“Talk, Marcus. This is almost thirty years overdue, so make it good,” Trixie said coolly.
“I just called Bella and scared the hell out of her. It was all a bluff but I think she fell for it. Now, down to the nitty-gritty. Bella has been blackmailing me…”
Darby’s sweet dream of walking through a green meadow filled with daisies was shattered by Willie’s shrill bark. She bounded out of bed, her eyes open wide. She listened to see what it was that set Willie off. Ben reared up, his legs swinging over the side of the bed. “What? Is the house on fire?”
“I think someone is ringing the doorbell. Who could be stopping by at eight o’clock in the morning? Even the aunts know better.”
Willie growled when he reached the kitchen door and let out a bark as Darby pulled back the curtain to reveal Jason and Mickey. They looked tired and bleary-eyed. Darby welcomed them in and Willie sniffed their shoes, their pant legs, undoubtedly picking up the scent from Russell’s house. He whined, then growled when they entered the house. The retriever, the hair on his back on end, his tail between his legs, stalked both young men until Darby ordered him to sit.
Ben entered the kitchen, his hair on end just like Willie’s. He looked questioningly at both Mickey and Jason. Darby busied herself by cleaning the coffeepot and adding fresh grounds.
“We did it, Mr. Gunn. We broke through around five this morning. We would have been here sooner, but it took us three hours to repair the firewall and co
ver our tracks so the webmaster doesn’t get wise to the breach. We took a thirty-minute catnap and here we are. Is there anything else you want us to do?”
Darby whirled around. “Are you saying you know…that you know who…who got Russ’s organs?” She started to cry, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
“Yeah. Yeah, we got it all.”
Ben turned and ran upstairs for his wallet. He grabbed all the cash he had, a couple of hundred dollars, and thundered back down the steps. Mickey saw the money, held up his hands, palms outward. “No way, Mr. Gunn. We didn’t do it for the money. Please don’t insult us.”
Ben stuffed the bills into the pocket of the tee shirt he’d pulled on before coming downstairs. “Thanks.” He pumped their hands.
Darby hugged them, and whispered, “Thanks, guys.”
“Anytime,” Jason whispered in return.
“See you around,” they said. A moment later they were gone. Willie barked until Darby got some sliced roast beef out of the refrigerator and gave it to him.
“Should we have our coffee first? Should I make breakfast? Or, should we sit here and read these papers. Oh, God, I never thought they would be able to get this information.” Darby started crying again.
Ben took her into his arms. “I have an idea. Let’s take a shower and go out to breakfast. We can talk about it, and you can make your decision. Whatever you decide will be all right with me. I don’t think we should tell anybody about this. That means the aunts, Trixie and Fred, or Claire. We need to agree on that, okay?”
Darby nodded. “You’re right. Okay, you shower first. I’ll shower down here. Oh, look, the aunts have company. They don’t usually get company this early in the morning. Wonder who it is?”
“Who cares? Shake it, Darby, I’m starved.”
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