by Susan Wolfe
He’d never intended to keep the appointment. What was he up to now?
“He says he’s doing some maintenance thing for his boat,” Nikki continued, “but honestly, at quarter end? I think he’s dodging the board to keep from talking about the meeting this morning.” Georgia squinted into the gloom and thought she discerned a frown below Nikki’s oversized reflective lenses. “Was it really that strange?”
“Sort of, I guess, yeah. So, Roy hasn’t been here at all today?”
“Not since the meeting,” Nikki confirmed yet again, turning her big lenses toward Georgia and cocking her head. “Why, you need him for something?”
“Oh, documents that need signing.” She held up a folder with documents she’d culled for camouflage, and then let it drop back into her lap.
“Well, if you need them today, you’ll have to go there. He told me I could start sending people over at a quarter to two.”
“He’s redirecting people to his boat?”
She shrugged. “Has to. It’s quarter end. I just have to let him know exactly who’s coming and clear it with him before they head out the door. No board members, I’m pretty sure.”
He’d intended to learn her identity without actually meeting.
Unless he intended to keep the appointment, on his boat.
His isolated boat, bobbing gently in that windy, deserted marina. Hadn’t Jack Drummond died in a boating accident? She put a hand on Nikki’s desk to steady herself.
She realized Nikki was waiting for an answer, her face blank and unreadable behind those big, reflective glasses. “Oh, sounds like he doesn’t need to deal with this now,” Georgia said with a little dismissive wave. “Honestly, don’t even mention it to him. I’ll just double check with Ken to make sure they can wait until Monday.”
“Be a while before you can do that. Ken’s headed over to the boat himself, and you know he promised Laura he wouldn’t answer his cell phone in the car.”
“Ken’s headed to the boat?” she echoed stupidly. Good thing Nikki’s head was pounding. Nikki nodded. “Yeah, just cleared it with Roy. Too bad the two of you didn’t coordinate. He could have gotten the signatures for you.”
“Yeah, bad luck. You know how long ago he left?” The sound of her pulse in her ears was deafening.
“I’d say ten minutes ago, so that was just after two. Should be there by a quarter to four. Leave a message on his cell phone, and he’ll call you back then.”
He’d shown up at Roy’s office at two. Roy thought the Wizard was Ken.
“Thanks. I’ll do that. Hope they let you out of here early.” She kept her hand on Nikki’s desk to steady herself as she stood up.
She reminded herself to keep breathing as she raced down stairs, unlocked her car, and flipped frantically through her Roy Gaddis folder for the phone number of Jessica Drummond. Jessica answered on the third ring.
“Ms. Drummond, this is Georgia Griffin. I talked to you about your brother a few days ago please don’t hang up. I need to clarify something urgently.”
The silence on the other end seemed endless. “Which would be what?”
“You told me your brother died in a boating accident. Do you remember where it happened?”
“Somewhere off the coast of New England. What’s so urgent about that?”
“You remember who owned the boat?”
“Supposedly some company big shot, like I told you. Bet he was really a drug runner, though. Why are you asking me this now?”
“Because I’m afraid you might be right about the owner, and that could mean somebody’s in danger right now.” Her voice cracked, which was mortifying but might make her more convincing. “Please, can you remember the owner’s name? Or the name of his company?”
“No way. Twenty years ago, and I wasn’t really listening then. The owner had a funny name, though. I remember seeing it in the news clipping the cops sent me. Started with an X, or a Z, maybe. Zuni? Xerxes?”
“Could it have been Zisko?”
“Yeah, could be. I probably still have that article around here . . .”
“Oh. Don’t worry about that, Ms. Drummond. Thank you for talking to me again. You’ve been a big help.” And she very rudely hung up on Jessica Drummond’s protest.
She had to get there in time to stop Ken from getting on that boat. Could he swim? Surely he could, but it better not come to that. She’d call Katie-Ann once she was on the freeway, have her call the cops if she wasn’t back by—No. Bad plan. Katie-Ann had nothing to do with this. This was Georgia’s project, and hers alone. She’d call Katie-Ann and tell her to get her own dinner. She’d resist telling her she loved her. With a kid like Katie-Ann, that would be a dead giveaway.
Well, she thought as she accelerated out of the parking lot, the good news was that her Wizard strategy had worked as intended. He’d obviously taken her very seriously. That’s why he wanted to kill her.
CHAPTER 30
She spotted Ken’s silver Camry the minute she careened into the nearly empty marina parking lot at 4:05. It was right next to one of the gates in the chain link fence. She screeched to a halt, and left her engine running while she jumped out into the chill, damp air to confirm that his car was locked and unoccupied. She was surprised it was so much colder here by the ocean, which probably explained the overcast sky and the stiff breeze bringing fog in across the water. Was that Ken, way down along the main dock, just turning onto the walkway next to Roy’s boat? As she squinted through the chain link fence into the early twilight, the fog shifted and she couldn’t see anyone. In any case, she’d obviously missed him. She had to get onto that boat.
And do what? Hopefully just listen undetected, while Roy realized his mistake in time to avoid blowing his cover with Ken. But of course she couldn’t count on that. She’d gotten Ken into this mess, and if necessary, she’d be the one to get him out again, although she surely didn’t know how. Roy was bigger than she was, and meaner than a polecat. Her only advantage was that he wouldn’t know she was there.
Looked like she was following Ken Madigan into battle, after all.
She got back into her car, pulled in next to the Camry, and then hesitated. Her old, battered Subaru was just so conspicuous here, new tires notwithstanding, and stealth was her biggest asset. After glancing around the lot, she sped back out the entrance, cursing the delay, and parked at the first spot she could find on the side of Brommer Avenue.
She shrugged her nylon windbreaker on over her black pantsuit to buffer the cold breeze, kicked off her low heels and laced up her running shoes, yanked the can of Mace from her glove compartment, and clipped its black canvas holder to her waistband. She snatched her thin running gloves from the pockets of her windbreaker, dropped her cell phone into one pocket and her little recorder into the other, stuffed the gloves back on top of them, then reconsidered and pulled the gloves on. Good for warmth, and maybe they’d help avoid fingerprints. Then she raced back into the lot and up to the chain link gate, where she came to a dead stop.
She’d forgotten they locked the gate.
How had Ken gotten through? She shook the gate to confirm it wouldn’t open, as gulls circled and squealed above her. She stepped back to evaluate climbing over the fence, and heard a voice say, “Need to get in here?”
She startled, and took an involuntary step back. A man in yellow shorts and a windbreaker had appeared out of the fog near the gate on the inside.
Manna from heaven?
She resisted her impulse to shrink back into the hood of her windbreaker, and instead beamed her most ingratiating smile. “Oh, can you let me in? That would be just wonderful! I’m already late for a meeting, and I forgot to bring my cell phone.”
“No problem. The Chaucer, right? I let your buddy in a couple of minutes ago.” He pulled the gate open and stood back to let her enter.
“Oh, that must be some other meeting,” she lied as she stepped through. “I’m on a different boat. Thanks so much.”
“You know,”
he advised, “if anybody else is coming, you should probably wait here and let ’em in yourself. I’m about to head out, and there aren’t too many folks around here right now.” As he gestured with his head toward the boat behind him, she heard the rapid staccato of his engine, and saw the light from his cabin windows staining the thick mist.
“I’ll let the owner know,” she called over her shoulder as she hurried away from him. “We really shouldn’t be bothering you anyway. Thanks again.” A moment later she glanced back to make sure he was gone, raced down the dock toward the Chaucer, then ducked and crept along the little walkway that separated the Chaucer from the next boat over. The Chaucer’s lights were on, which must be why Roy had the engine running. Well, unless he planned to take Ken out to sea and throw him overboard. Could he do that? Ken was a whole lot taller than Roy, but he wouldn’t see Roy coming until it was too late.
She heard voices coming from the cabin. Good. As long as they stayed put down there, the boat wasn’t going anywhere and Ken wasn’t going into the water. Now Roy just needed to realize he had the wrong guy, and she’d be gone in the fog without a trace.
She lifted her foot to step onto the deck, hesitated, then set it back down on the walkway. What if the boat rocked, what if they heard her foot land? But she had to hear what they were saying. Too bad cat burglary had never been one of her father’s special talents. At that moment she heard the sound of an engine, crouched down next to the Chaucer, and saw the gate opener’s boat churn slowly past and out toward the bay, setting the Chaucer bobbing in its wake. That guy was turning out to be downright useful. She jumped to her feet as soon as the boat was past, bobbed her upper body once or twice in rhythm with the Chaucer, then leaped and landed both feet on the deck, keeping her knees soft to absorb the impact.
The murmured conversation in the cabin continued without interruption. Perfect. She crouched low, tiptoed across the deck and pressed herself against the slick, wet exterior wall of the cabin so that she couldn’t be seen through the horizontal window slits. Only one window was cracked open, and she crept around until she was right under it in order to hear.
“. . . drink?” Roy was saying. Good, they were still doing preliminaries. She started her little recorder with gloved hands, and propped it against the wall with her shoulder while she did the same with her iPhone. Then with a slight shudder she molded her whole front against the wet, cold, metal wall, and held up one device in each hand just below the window. She hoped for Ken’s sake that Roy wouldn’t say anything incriminating, but if he did, she just might need it later.
“. . . have ginger ale,” Ken was saying.
“Awfully dull,” Roy teased mildly. She heard the chink of ice, and then fizz, and then murmured thanks.
“. . . appreciate you agreeing to talk to me today,” Ken said.
“Oh, I wouldn’t have missed it.” Did Ken hear the menace in that voice? “I thought it was you. I’m guessing this all must be about Andrea.”
“That’s exactly what it’s about.”
“I’m surprised you thought it was worth it.”
“It is worth it, Roy, because Andrea’s the lifeblood of this company. I was ready to give up, but then Laura and I talked it over this weekend, and agreed I should do everything possible to keep Andrea with the company.”
“So Laura knows about it as well.” No. No way.
“Laura’s my partner, Roy. I talk to her about everything, but I promise you, it never goes beyond her.”
“Very reassuring. And have you told anyone else?” Say yes, Ken. Please say yes.
“Nope. No reason to.”
“And does Laura know you’re here now?” Why was he asking that, exactly?
“No, I really don’t bother her with the details. Just found out you were here myself, and since it was urgent I decided to drive on over.”
“Glad you did. So you’ve been holding this in reserve for a while.”
There was a slight pause. “What do you mean by ‘this’, exactly?” Uh-oh. Roy needed to realize they were talking about different things now.
“Well, that’s a fair question,” Roy acknowledged. “Exactly what do you know? Let’s start with my being Roy Gaddis.” Thar she blows. Georgia squeezed her eyes shut and suppressed a groan. And what did he mean, “start?” What else did he think Ken knew?
There was a pause. What was Ken making of that rather startling remark? Did he realize he was in danger? Had he made the connection with Gaddis Industries from the slide a few days ago? Wait, that board meeting had only happened this morning. She gave her head a slight shake to clear it.
“Sorry, Roy, I guess I’m not following you. Are you talking about what happened in the board meeting this morning?”
“You thought I was going to avoid it?”
“Not necessarily, and I know it’s probably very important. I guess I just don’t see what it has to do with Andrea. I hope we’re not talking at cross purposes here.”
“Oh, I don’t think we are. You wanted me to feel cornered, and I’m letting you know that I do.”
There was another pause. What made a simple gap in conversation sound so clearly like stunned silence? “Now I know I’m missing something. Happy to talk about anything that will help the company, Roy, but remember I’m an officer. If you tell me something I think the board should know, I’ll have to tell them.” So straightforward and upright. Hardly something the Wizard would say. Would Roy have the subtlety to realize that and pull back now, while he still could?
“Don’t expect you to do anything, one way or the other,” Roy responded. “Too late for that. And by all means, drop the Dudley Do-right imitation. Dudley Do-Right doesn’t blackmail people with their past, even in the name of truth and justice.”
He’d made up his mind. He intended to kill him.
Ken surely knew he was in trouble now, but he couldn’t know how much. She lowered her left hand and touched her black canvas Mace holster, then lifted the iPhone back up under the window. She couldn’t spray Roy in that little enclosed cabin, not with Ken in there. She’d have to wait until he came out.
“You know, Roy, you’re obviously still quite angry and distracted about the board meeting this morning. Not sure this is a good time to talk about Andrea, after all.” Good. He’d get himself out of there and off the boat. But why did his voice sound a little strange?
“Oh, come. You’ve traveled all this way. We’re not going to send you home empty-handed.” Roy’s barely audible chuckle made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
“Say, can we open more of those vents?” Ken asked. His voice really was a little slurred. “I seem to be getting quite a headache.” Had Roy put something in Ken’s ginger ale?
“Are you? Probably just don’t have your sea legs yet. Let’s sit here a few more minutes, and I’m sure you’ll be fine. Now, where were we? Roy Gaddis. So you know about the mistakes I made as a teenager.”
“Don’t really believe I do, but they’re probably pretty familiar. After all, I had two kids by the time I was twenty.” Ken was sounding too chatty for a guy who knew he was at risk. Was he really that trusting, or was something affecting his judgment?
“If you know about Roy Gaddis,” Roy continued, “then you know I got caught passing bad checks, and had to leave town.” Was he so confident of killing Ken that he was going to spell it all out for him? First chance in thirty-odd years, maybe.
Long pause. “Ya gotta be kiddin’ me.”
“Oh, come. You surely knew that much. So I had to leave my identity behind, and I did. Laundered it, really, the way gangsters launder money. I married Alida Zisko in college, and she got boatloads of credit from the dyke feministas when I agreed to take her name. Voilà! as they say. Out with Roy Gaddis. In with Roy Zisko.” It was terrifying that Roy felt comfortable saying all this. Ken would surely try to leave now.
“This wasn’t Linda,” Ken said. So what, Ken? Stand up and get out of that cabin.
“Of course not. He
r name was Alida Zisko, a lovely young Czechoslovakian in search of a green card. Three years later, Alida Zisko got her citizenship, I had my new name, and we happily divorced and went our separate ways. Linda, being a traditional sort, was more than happy to become Linda Zisko a couple of years later.
“That was more than 30 years ago, and I congratulate you. In all that time, you’re only the second person to figure out the connection.”
“Who was the first?” Good question. Slightly better question: What happened to the first? She inhaled deeply, and let the air out slowly with puffed cheeks.
“My old partner in crime, Jack Drummond,” Roy answered amiably, “and you know all about him, of course. Well, not all about him, since you evidently thought he was still alive. He probably would have been, if he hadn’t had the misfortune to recognize my picture in the Journal when I became the CEO of MegaMind. Drummer was down on his luck at the time, and decided to participate in my good fortune. Only it didn’t work out for him.”
“Boy, I’m really not feeling well. Sure seems stuffy down here. You sure that was just ginger ale you gave me?” So now even Ken was suspicious. Roy must be knocking Ken out so he could throw him over the side. If so, was Ken better off staying in the cabin? Either way, she’d have to Mace Roy the minute he put his toe on deck. “You telling me you . . . Jack Dormand?”
“Let’s just say he wasn’t able to take advantage the way he’d hoped. And nobody else has made the connection in thirty years.
“Oh, Sally figured out I didn’t have the PhD I claimed on my resume, and I was always afraid she’d figure out the rest, but she never has. Is that how you figured it out? Did she tell you about my made-up PhD?”
“You don’t have a PhD?” Okay, now that response was just stranger than pantyhose on a frog. Ken might be trusting, but he was never oblivious. She desperately wanted to look in there and see what was happening with her own eyes.
“Well,” Roy continued, “in any case, now that I see who you are, I actually do believe you didn’t want money. You really did just want me to resign.” His chuckle was tinged with regret. “Too bad I didn’t realize that sooner. Who knows, maybe I’d actually have done it. After all, I’ve made enough money killing the other companies, I probably could have spared this one.”