by Mark Henwick
I took a deep, scented breath and listened to the fountain and the hush of the wind.
Jen was lying on a chaise, a pile of company reports to one side and a glass of something long and full of ice on the other. She smiled and waved me over. I gave her a kiss on the cheek and settled onto the neighboring chaise. Against the wall of the house behind us, a hot pink bougainvillea waved in the breeze above sprays of multicolored chrysanthemums.
“Everything okay?”
Was it?
“I’m frazzled. There are some weird—that word again—weird things happening to me.” I bit my lip. “Let’s put them aside for the moment and if I go quiet or moody, yell at me.”
Jen laughed. “Why is it I think that weird for you means something different than for the rest of us?” She held up an elegant finger. “Don’t answer that.”
The maid came out with a refill for Jen and a glass for me. I sipped carefully, but it was just a pleasant lemon and lime mix, with a tang of bitters.
“I missed our Friday briefing—is there anything to report?” said Jen.
“Some. The wallets from Silver Hills are a dead end for me. All the IDs were false and I passed all of that on to the police. The cell phones, you have at the moment, or your tech department does, and I expect some useful information from them.”
“A guy called Matt will come and see you with them,” said Jen.
I nodded thanks and went on. “At least one of the guys who attacked us was from a criminal organization called ZK. A group of them were rounded up early this morning by the police. Foot soldiers rather than the bosses, unfortunately. I don’t know what will come of it, but I bet at least some of them will be in custody for a long time.”
Jen sipped her drink.
“We don’t know why they might be trying to take over your company or kill or injure you,” I went on. “We don’t know if they’ve simply been hired to do a job for someone else. But between the message we sent back on Thursday, the security we’ve got in place around you now and Morales tossing some of them in jail, we may have bought ourselves some time to figure out what this is all about. The best result, of course, would be that we’ve proved we’re too difficult and they’ll look elsewhere.”
“It sounds as if you have an idea what the motivation might be,” she said.
I shrugged. “It could be that they wanted Kingslund Group as a front for their illegal activities—basically drugs. If that’s all there was to it, they’ll go away now that we’re alerted. Or they’ll stop trying to take it over but may do something for revenge.”
Jen sighed. “Okay. So much on that side. What about the financial picture? Are they involved in that, or have I got two enemies out there?”
“Well, that’s why I’m being careful with my analysis. It doesn’t quite all fit together. It feels like two different strategies.” I let my hair out of the tie and ran my fingers through it. “Anyway, I have a meeting tomorrow with the guy who left the financial department. I may have some clearer ideas after that.”
We sat for a time while Jen thought that through.
“Troy?” Her voice was very low.
There wasn’t any way to say this kindly. “It doesn’t look good, Jen. Victor’s team have found no sign of him anywhere and there’s been no ransom demand to anyone that we’ve heard. I have to say it again: every day means less chance of finding him alive.”
Jen looked down the gardens to where Victor’s guard was patrolling. “Gayle’s team seem competent at security. Are you sure they’ve done as much as they can on the investigation side?”
“I am,” I replied. “I rate Victor and his company.”
Jen nodded. “He runs it like an army. Are these guys all ex-military?”
“Not all of them, but Victor employs a lot of ex-service people. That’s how I got to know him. The guy down there lurking under the trees is a former Marine. Victor was a chopper pilot.”
“It’s important to you? The ex-service thing?”
“I wouldn’t recommend him just because of that, but yes, it is.”
“You’re an old-fashioned patriot, aren’t you, Amber?” She drained her drink. “Is that why you joined the army?”
“It’s one of the reasons, Jen. I think I became patriotic by doing patriotic things.”
“What about the cops? I notice you’re always careful to call them police.”
“I’ve walked a mile in their shoes is all. Doesn’t mean there aren’t good and bad policemen and women. Does that all make sense?”
She smiled and got up. “Perfect sense,” she said. “Dinner in half an hour. I’m going in to shower and change.”
“Formal?” I hoped not, because I didn’t have anything.
“Formal shorts and T, honey.” She patted my shoulder as she passed. “You’ll be fine like that. We’ll eat in the living room.”
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
There are T-shirts and then there are T-shirts, I thought as we sat down later at a simple occasional table. Jen’s was gold silk with large white flowers scattered across it. Elegant and beautiful as always.
Carmen brought in the dishes and set them down on a side table. It was a good selection of spicy Mexican enchiladas and beans with a salad for balance. She left us to it.
“Delicious,” I said, as I sneaked a taste off the serving plate. “You don’t have to take me out to the Moulin, just bring me here for meals.”
“Oh, but I do. I have to be seen. Denver’s a small place in comparison to New York, say. Someone’s always watching. If I’m not doing what I always do, someone will notice. Could affect my credit rating.” She served the food and poured us some red wine.
I smiled. “Paranoid.”
“Pot, kettle, black.” She waved her hand. “Anyway, that was business as well.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Hell, I’m interested in how well out-of-town places do,” said Jen. “Restaurants, resorts and so on.”
“But you’re not going to build a resort.”
“No, but I fully intend to own Tucker’s and I want to be sure I can return it to profit. The Moulin does well.”
“I know what you think of my business sense, but I would buy the Moulin and leave Tucker alone.”
We left it at that. The food was as good as my sneak taste had suggested, and it deserved attention.
When Carmen came in to clear the plates later, I thanked her in Spanish. Jen joined in, and predictably, her Spanish was better than mine.
“French, Spanish, any others?” I asked.
“Italian,” she said, and went on at my inquisitive look. “First husband. What about you, any other languages?”
Crap. I should have thought ahead, but I wasn’t going to lie. “A bit of Vietnamese,” I said.
She read my face and laughed. “And more stuff I’m not going to hear about in a hurry.”
We moved to less awkward topics, and talked easily about everything and nothing.
Finally, Jen glanced at the clock. “Oh God, look at the time. I promised myself I would have you in bed by nine at the latest.” She stood and looked down at me. “Are you okay, Amber?”
“Ah. Yes. I think I just snorted some wine,” I gasped. I had slightly misinterpreted her comment, mid-swallow.
“Well, as I understand it, you only sniff it when it’s still in the glass, but you carry right on, girl.”
She hauled me to my feet when my spluttering stopped. “Go on and get a full night’s sleep. You’ve been up too late too often this week.”
“Pot, kettle, black,” I shot back at her.
She grinned. “Okay, I’ll head off too. It’s been a long week for me as well.” She paused. “Have you got another run lined up for tomorrow?”
“No. A family lunch.”
“Oh, I just thought it would be nice and it would get me out.”
“Well, we can work up to that. I’ll do some exercises with you in the morning.”
“Deal,” she said and kissed m
e on the cheek.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
I float through Jen’s house, a shadow among shadows that seep into her room. I stand at the foot of her bed, inhaling the scent of her life, listening to the sleepy thud of her heart and the rush of her breath. I can taste the rich wine we have been drinking, I can feel the pulse in her throat as if it beats against my lips. My jaw aches and my tongue explores the unfamiliar sharpness in my mouth.
She stirs and I drift away silently and merge with the shadows again.
SUNDAY
Chapter 29
Mom lived with John in one of the pleasant parts of Aurora. It wasn’t up to the house we’d had in Wash Park, but it beat the trailer park. John kept the grass tended and Mom loved the flowers she had planted around the borders.
I parked under the short Siberian elm that shaded the drive. I was early, but Mom spotted me and came out to the porch. We hugged.
“Oh, Amber, I know I make a fuss and upset you and here I am fussing, but I don’t see enough of you.” We broke the hug and she brushed something off my jacket and turned the collar down just so. We laughed and I hugged her again. There was the hint of a tear in her eye.
She patted me nervously on my shoulder and spoke quietly. “Kathleen’s brought her boyfriend.”
I hadn’t even known Kath was coming. Under the circumstances, I might have begged off, but instead I put on a bright smile. “That’s good. It’s okay, Mom.” I patted her back. “I speak jock. I can talk to him.”
“No, that’s the problem, dear. He’s not like that. All I’ve heard is opera and ballet.” She almost rolled her eyes before she caught it.
“Oh. Well, I guess I’m ahead on opera.”
“How’s that?” she said suspiciously.
“I know someone called Carmen.”
She bit her lip to stop herself from laughing and gripped my jacket. “Please, Amber, you know how prickly she can be about your sense of humor.” She leaned closer. “I think there may be an announcement. Please, please don’t spoil it.”
“Best behavior, Mom. I promise.”
“We’d better go in.” She stroked my jacket one last time and turned to lead us into the house. “Lovely jacket, by the way, dear.”
My stepfather, John, met us inside. John was a decent man and he and Mom seemed happy together. It wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t Dad. I just never seemed to get comfortable with him. I hoped I hid it well enough and gave him a hug and a kiss.
Kath and I touched cheeks coolly and she introduced me to Taylor. He was a lawyer in the same firm as her. He was tall and skinny, with close-cut, light brown hair. His gray eyes were cautious but steady and his handshake soft and quick. He seemed to choose every word with care. I was sure he was a hotshot lawyer and a smart man, but I doubted he and I were going to be friends.
Almost as soon as I finished shaking his hand, Kath clapped hers together.
“Now we’re all here—” Oh, so I was late, was I? “—we, that is, Taylor and I, have some news.” She turned to Taylor and beamed at him. He pulled a ring box from his pocket.
“Although we’ve known each other for only a year, Kathleen and I have become very close,” he said. “Last week, I asked her to marry me and I’m very happy to say, she has agreed. We’ve kept this for today.” He opened the box. Inside was a lovely diamond engagement ring, which Kath took and put on her finger.
“Oh, Kathleen! Oh, I’m so happy. What a lovely surprise.” Mom hugged and kissed Kath.
I’m not much for this stuff, but I was impressed with the ring. Mom and I crowded her for a look, while John shook Taylor’s hand and went off to find some champagne which he happened to have in the fridge, thanks to Mom.
We toasted them and asked the usual questions about dates and plans. They weren’t in any hurry, and the wedding was sometime to be agreed in the spring.
I caught Mom looking at me and sighed quietly. Not likely, Mom.
The other news John gave us as we sat down to eat. “I’ve finally persuaded Stacy that we need to take a real vacation this year.” He and Mom smiled at each other. “We’re going down to my brother’s in Florida on Wednesday.”
Given everything that was happening around me, I felt a huge sense of relief that they would be well out of the way.
The rest of the table found a lot to say about the right season for visiting Florida and the best date next spring for a wedding. I didn’t say much and in a lull John tried to pull me into the conversation by asking me about work.
“I’m sorry, John, but most of my work is done under a confidentiality clause. I can’t say much about it.”
“Nothing new about that,” muttered Kath under her breath, but I heard her. I also saw Taylor’s hand squeeze hers and wondered if that was a warning. Kath with a few too many drinks was a handful.
“But in general, it’s busy and complicated at the moment,” I finished. My promise to Mom kept me from snapping at Kath. I knew that she had always had a problem with my not being able to tell them about what I did, but I would have hoped she had other things on her mind today.
“So, business is good, then.” John made it a statement and I left it there.
“Can I see your bracelet, please, Amber?” Mom came in to steer things back on course. “It’s beautiful.”
I undid it and gave it to her. “It was a gift. The pattern on the back represents a wolf’s eye, because apparently the wolf is my spirit animal.”
“Oh, yes, well it would be, dear. This is so lovely.” She ran the beads through her fingers gently. Her eyes had a faraway look.
“How do you mean, Mom?”
“The wolf spirit?” She looked up at me. “Did I never tell you about your great-grandmother?”
“Well, you told us she was Arapaho, and that your mom used to argue with her when she told you all the scary Indian myths as bedtime stories.”
“Yes, yes, but her name. Did I never tell you?” Mom got up and went to the living room.
“It was Sarah, wasn’t it?” I called out after her.
“That was her English name.” Mom came back with her old souvenir box and scrabbled around on the bottom. “And I can’t remember how to say her Indian name, but it meant Speaks-to-Wolves. The wolf was her totem.”
A shiver passed down my spine. She lifted an old sepia photo out of a plastic cover and passed it to me.
A stern great-grandfather Farrell looked out at me through the years, wearing a formal jacket and carrying a stovepipe hat, both of them probably borrowed for the pose. Seated in front of him was Sarah, dressed in western fashion, but with an Indian shawl over her shoulders. The pattern on the shawl was identical to the pattern on my bracelet. The faded writing at the bottom of the photo said Padraig and Speaks-to-Wolves.
I stared at it for an age. “Can I borrow this to copy, please?” I said finally.
“Of course, Amber. I’ll put it here for you.” She returned it to the plastic folder and slipped it in my jacket pocket.
I had lost the thread of the rest of the conversation at the table and when I caught up, it was veering off towards the ballet.
“Amber used to dance,” said John, when he saw my attention return.
I chuckled. “Nooo. I just learned the easy parts of some Latin dances. You know, the basic steps for the cha-cha-cha, salsa, rumba and so on.”
Taylor smiled politely. “Did you study it long?”
“I got lessons from a dancing teacher in exchange for babysitting. I don’t think that quite qualifies as studying. I used to enjoy it, but I’ve never followed up.”
“I’m afraid Kathleen hasn’t told me very much about you. I understand you’re a private investigator,” said Taylor. “What did you have to study to become one?”
I groaned inwardly. I knew exactly why Kath hadn’t told him much about me; I wasn’t an appropriate sister with a college education and a suitable job. But there was no way to avoid his question.
“I didn’t,” I replied. “I left schoo
l early to join the army.”
Taylor barely had time to register that before Kath spoke. “You had to leave because you did that stupid base jump off the clock tower.”
“Kathleen!” Mom was shocked, and I guess I was too. I wondered how many glasses of champagne Kath had drunk. Still, I had promised Mom, and I put as good a face on it as I could.
“Yes. Guilty as charged. I did a base jump off the clock tower at South High. But I had already made up my mind I was leaving.”
“Wasn’t it dangerous?” asked Taylor.
“Yes. That was the point,” I said. His eyes registered blank incomprehension and I couldn’t quite stop mine from rising to the ceiling. That was rude and Kath didn’t take my judgment of her fiancée well.
“It doesn’t matter exactly why you left school, but you threw it all away so you could go off and do stupid, dangerous things for thrills. Now look what good that’s done you. You’re coming to me begging for help.”
Mom’s eyes were wide. “What’s going on? Amber?”
I pushed my chair back and got up. “Leave it, Mom, I was rude. I’m sorry, I’ll go.”
Kath leaned forward and started to speak.
“Shut up, Kathleen! And you sit down, Amber!” I couldn’t remember when I had seen Mom so furious. My legs just folded and I fell back onto my seat. Kath had gone pale as a sheet, realizing too late the drink had made her go too far.
There was complete silence for a moment, with John and Taylor scarlet with embarrassment, Kath and I ashen and stunned. How had it all come apart so quickly?
“This should have been a meal to celebrate. I hate it when you two can’t get along. I hate it. You used to love each other so much.” Mom spoke quietly, but there was no misunderstanding her anger. “Amber, what is this about going to Kathleen for help?”