Well, anyway...
I would have pounced with a thousand questions and demands to hear the whole truth and nothing but, and I wouldn’t have rested until I did.
But that’s not how Dan worked.
Dan was smart and very cautious. Of course he’d take his time. No doubt he’d been hard at work on the problem ever since the day before when I broke the news with my shaving-cream message. Now he was past the thinking phase and into the probing stage, and I didn’t want to miss a word. There was an empty chair nearby, and I sat down, leaned forward, and listened.
The whole time I’d been thinking about this, Madeline was fussing and fidgeting, obviously trying to get her story straight in her head. She squeezed Dan’s hand and said, “I told you, Danny, I’m a new woman.”
“And I appreciate how that could happen. I mean, with what you went through at that hospital and all.” He picked up his coffee cup, but he didn’t take a drink. “That was really something, the way you grabbed that empty bucket and threw it into the middle of the floor so that the attendant tripped and we could get past him and escape.”
I didn’t appreciate the revisionist history. Offended, I sat up. “It wasn’t a bucket,” I said, “and I didn’t trip him. I grabbed the mop, remember? I hoisted it in both hands, swung, and—”
And the sense of what Dan was saying hit. I perked up and listened, anxious to see if Madeline would fall into his trap.
“I can be spunky, all right!” She giggled.
“And when we found that open back door and ran out into the parking lot . . .” Dan watched her carefully.
“It was cold,” Madeline said. It was the perfect generic response.
I knew an opportunity when I saw it, and before the moment passed and she did anything to squelch his suspicions, I pulled out the pilfered iPhone.
Oscar Zmeskis
I sent the text message and didn’t worry about cost. After all, Armani woman was paying. At least until she discovered her phone was gone and disconnected the service.
When Dan’s phone signaled a message, he dug it out of his pocket and read the words on the screen. “Oscar Zmeskis?” He looked at Madeline. “That name mean anything to you?”
Oh yeah, it meant something to her, all right. That would explain why her cheeks went a little chalky.
Now that I had the advantage, I struck again.
Becka Chance
Again, Dan read the message out loud. This time, Madeline pushed back from the table.
“Somebody’s playing a trick on you,” she said. She looked all around, and I had no doubt she was looking for me. “Why would somebody just send you random names?”
“Unless they’re not random.” Dan watched the screen on his phone, and who was I to disappoint him?
Alan Grankowski, Leon Harris, Lony Billberger, Athalea Misborough
He read the names over once, then read them again. “You don’t suppose . . .”
“What?” By now, Madeline was on her feet. I’ve got to say, I was surprised my messages got such a rise out of her. “Obviously, somebody’s got the wrong number. They’re sending you information that should be going to someone else.”
“I thought you said they were playing a trick on me?” Dan watched her carefully.
And I struck one last time. I sent him the dates and page numbers of the newspaper articles Ernie and I had found. The ones that talked about Alan and Lony being missing.
As if it would all make him see better, Dan took off his glasses and rubbed the lenses against his Aran sweater. When he put them back on, his blue eyes glittered. “What are the chances these are the names on that list you can’t find?” he asked her. “What if someone else knows who’s on the list? I mean, I know you said you didn’t remember, but—”
“No. Those names aren’t familiar at all.” Madeline stepped back from the table. “It’s a wrong number, that’s all it is. And I . . .” She looked over her shoulder. “I have to go to the ladies’ room. I’ll be right back.”
He couldn’t argue. Not with an excuse like that. Instead, Dan pulled a notebook out of the laptop case on the chair next to him and wrote down the names I’d sent along with the newspaper names, the dates, and the page numbers. He sat looking at the information, tapping his pen against the tabletop.
And I watched Madeline disappear into the restroom, and I was more surprised than I can say.
Why?
Because though I was anxious to get the names of the missing to Dan so that he could start investigating on his own, I hadn’t expected that kind of reaction from Madeline.
It made me wonder if she was lying again; if she recognized the names.
And if so, if she knew exactly what was happening to those people out in Winnetka.
20
By the time Madeline came back from the ladies’ room, Dan was ready to hit the road.
“It’s time to talk to Hilton,” he told Madeline, “but not until I stop at a library and check out these names. I’m guessing you don’t want to come along. I’ll call you when I’m done.” He gave her a peck on the cheek that was loving enough, but when he looked into her eyes, it was to send an unspoken message. “We’re going to get this thing settled once and for all.”
I knew what this meant. Dan was headed out to do research, and research—it goes without saying—is boring. Something told me it would be far more interesting to tag along with Madeline.
I was glad I did. When she hailed a cab, I crawled into the backseat next to her, and when she gave the cab driver the address of the Gerard Clinic... well, I can’t really say I was surprised. I was curious, though. She wasn’t carrying a briefcase or a file, so I didn’t think she had the proof with her that she was supposed to have when she met Agent Baskins, so that’s not why she was headed to the clinic. So what trick did Madeline have up her polyester sleeve?
Anxious to find out, I stuck close, even when she marched right past the receptionist and walked into Hilton Gerard’s office without knocking.
When he saw the woman he thought was Pepper Martin walk in, his surprise couldn’t have been more complete. (Well, maybe it would have been if he knew she wasn’t me and I was right next to her.)
For a couple moments, he simply sat there behind his desk, his mouth opening and closing like a fish that had been hooked and dragged onto dry land.
But hey, the guy is an expert, right? I mean, about brains and research and psychology. And also about cheating the government, hiding money, and, oh yeah, murder, too.
He wasn’t about to be caught off guard for long.
When the receptionist came running in on Madeline’s heels, falling over herself to apologize, Doctor Gerard told her not to worry, got up, and closed the door in the poor woman’s face. He stood with his back to it, his eyes hooded as he sized up his guest.
“Miss Martin. I must say, I’m surprised to see you. I can’t believe you’d have the nerve to walk back in here. Not after—”
“Cut the crap, Hilton.” Madeline breezed behind his desk and took the seat he’d just vacated. Not wanting to miss any of the fun, I sat on the edge of the desk and watched the show. “We’ve got more important things to talk about than how you tried to snatch that stupid girl’s brain and how she got away from you.”
He smiled in a way that said he didn’t actually trust that he was safe in a closed room with the woman. “You’re talking about yourself as if you’re someone else. You’re so stressed that you can’t handle reality. You’re having what we call a dissociative fugue.”
Madeline was one step ahead of him. She clicked her tongue and waved off the bullshit explanation. “I know exactly who I am,” she said. “That’s what I’m here to talk to you about.”
“The hospital experience?” Hilton’s smile faded. His laugh sounded as uncomfortable as he suddenly looked. “You remember what happened to you there?”
“Not what happened to Pepper. Who the hell cares what happened to Pepper! I do remember, though, what happe
ned to the others. You know, Oscar Zmeskis, Becka Chance, Alan Grankowski, and the rest of them.”
Hilton was back to the fish impersonation. While he stood there staring with his mouth open, Madeline laughed.
“Surprised?” she asked. “You shouldn’t be.”
“You’re bluffing.”
“Are you willing to take that chance?”
He thought about this while he walked over to the desk and dropped into one of his own guest chairs. “What do you want?” he asked.
“The same thing I wanted before. A million ought to do it. At least to start. That will keep me quiet about what I already know. You know, about all those brains you’ve been studying out in Winnetka. And about how you murdered Madeline Tremayne when she found out what you were up to.”
“Huh?” Still sitting on the desk, I spun around so I could give Madeline a closer look. Then I glanced the other way to catch Doctor Gerard’s reaction. She was looking happy. And him? He was as guilty as hell. I could tell, and I wondered why I’d never seen the truth before.
“Madeline was killed by a mentally ill patient,” Doctor Gerard said, and if I hadn’t seen that fleeting look that told me he’d been caught with his pants down (only proverbially, of course, thank goodness), I actually might have believed him.
Madeline didn’t. Then again, no one knew this part of the story better than she did. “Madeline was in on it from the start. She knew exactly what you were doing to those homeless lowlifes. She wanted you to pay her in return for her silence. A million dollars, right? The same thing I’m asking for.” She let this sink in before she went on. “You didn’t want to share. You paid John Wilson to kill her, and then you supplied him with enough drugs to make sure he OD’d. It was the perfect way to keep him quiet.”
Hilton’s voice was breathy. “You can’t know that.”
“But I do.” Her smile was sleek. “And if you think about it, you’ll know how I know. Remember, Hilton, I did a lot of research for you.”
The truth of the matter dawned, but just as quickly, he dismissed the possibility with a shake of his head. “No. It isn’t possible. You . . . er . . . Madeline . . . Madeline was the only one who knew what was really happening in Winnetka. No one else knew. You couldn’t know.”
“You think?” Stretching like a cat, she rose from the chair. “Remember, Hilton, there’s more in those books of yours than just information on ghosts. Shape-shifting, body switching. Did you ever think it was really possible?”
Honestly, I almost felt sorry for the guy. That’s how upset he looked. Before he had a chance to say anything, though, the door banged open again, and Dan raced into the office. He rushed around the desk, grabbed Madeline’s hand, dragged her toward the door, and tried to push her out into the hallway toward the receptionist who was, again, stuttering out her apologies to the doctor.
“Out,” Dan said, and when Madeline wouldn’t budge, he tugged her again. “Out, now. It’s too dangerous here for you. Hilton and I have things we need to talk about.”
“Not you, too.” Doctor Gerard groaned. “Your friend here has been telling me some fantastic stories, Dan. I hope she doesn’t have you believing them.”
“I’ve got some stories of my own.” Dan had a piece of paper clutched in one hand, and I was sitting close enough to see that it was a computer printout of the same two articles I’d found about the missing homeless men. “What do you do with them, Hilton?” he asked, poking the paper in Hilton’s direction as if he could see it. “Where are the people who’ve gone into your study? Please tell me that it’s not true that you—”
“Can’t you keep your mouth shut?” It was Madeline’s turn to slam the door in the face of the receptionist. When she was done, she turned to Dan with fire in her eyes. “I was taking care of everything. Why did you have to show up and ruin it all?”
“What?” He looked at her as if he’d never seen her before. “What are you talking about? Ruining everything? Terrible things are happening out in Winnetka. I’ve got documentation.” He waved the newspaper articles at her, too. “It’s not proof, but it’s a start.” He turned to Hilton. “You owe me some answers.”
“You think so?” This time when Hilton laughed, it sent chills up my spine. To put some distance between myself and him, I walked to the other side of the room and stood near the bookcases there. Too bad Madeline had the same idea. She came to join me, and I sidled into the corner, the better to avoid the bad vibrations that rose off her like the electrical charge from a thundercloud.
“I’ve got news for you, Dan.” Hilton strolled back around his desk and stopped behind it. “I don’t owe you anything, and I don’t owe anything to your friend here, either. So when she tells me I’ve got to pay her a cool million—”
“What!” Dan spun to stare at Madeline, and I was busy staring at him staring at her.
Which is why none of us noticed when Hilton Gerard opened his desk drawer. By the time we realized what was happening, he already had the gun in his hand.
Hilton pointed with the gun, encouraging Dan and Madeline to stand closer together. “Don’t you get it?” the doctor asked. “Don’t you see what happened before your very eyes? She isn’t Pepper Martin. She’s Madeline. She has to be. It’s the only way she could know everything she does.”
“Then it is true!” Dan’s eyes misted. He grabbed her arm and looked into Madeline’s eyes, and for a moment, I thought he’d actually be corny enough to kiss her, even while Doctor Gerard was pointing that gun at them. Big points for Dan, he didn’t go for the obvious. Then again, Dan never did.
“What did you do with her?” he asked, and since I knew he was talking about me, I perked right up. “Where’s Pepper? Is she safe?”
“Oh please!” Madeline yanked her arm away. “You always were a sucker.”
“A sucker to believe that you really loved me? A sucker to miss you for three long years?” Dan could barely choke out the words. “Are you telling me—”
“She knows everything,” Doctor Gerard said. He stepped closer. “You see, Dan, Madeline was part of my scheme. It was working pretty well, too, until she got greedy.”
“No.” Dan dismissed the very idea with a shake of his head that sent his shaggy hair flying. “It can’t be true. Maddy wouldn’t—”
“But I would. I did!” Her laugh was almost a shriek. “And I had you fooled since day one,” she told him. “I had you all fooled.”
“It’s an unfortunate situation.” Doctor Gerard trained the gun on Dan, and I tensed, wondering if I could spring at him and knock the weapon away. Before I could, though, he swiveled toward Madeline and fired.
After that, everything moved so fast, it’s hard to say what happened when. Even over the noise of the deafening gunshot, I heard Madeline scream and watched her crumple to the floor. I wasn’t taking any chances. When the doctor turned toward Dan, I launched myself through the air and knocked into his gun hand. At the same moment, the office door burst open and Agent Baskins rushed in. He tackled the doctor and had him handcuffed before Dan could recover and help, and when some of the clinic employees ran in to see what was happening, he ordered them to call 911 and hurried over to where Madeline lay, a trickle of blood pooling on the floor around her.
“Hang on,” Agent Baskins told her, and it was weird, but I kind of wondered if he was talking to me. Because even as I watched, the scene in front of my eyes blurred and faded. Then again, that was apt to happen since I was watching myself bleed to death right before my very eyes.
When Agent Baskins spoke again, his voice sounded like it came from a million miles away. “Hang in, Pepper,” he said. “You’re my star witness against these guys, remember.”
Dan knelt on the floor and took Madeline’s hand in his. He pressed it to his heart.
“You heard this guy,” he told her. “You’ve got to hang in. You can’t leave yet. You’ve got to tell me what you did with Pepper.”
Something told me that Agent Baskins would have liked
to ask what the hell Dan was talking about, but he never had the chance. Outside, we heard the pulsing sound of police car sirens. Inside, well, something really weird happened. While they knelt there and hung on to Madeline, the floor beneath my feet shifted and disappeared, and I couldn’t tell if I was right side up or upside down. I looked down at my ugly outfit just as it—and I—faded. Pretty soon I was nothing but a mist hanging high above the scene.
That’s why I had a bird’s-eye view when Madeline’s spirit swooped out of my body, kicking her clunky black shoes and screaming all the way.
“Oh no,” she shouted, her angel face twisted with anger. “I’m not giving up this body. I’m staying here. I’m staying alive. I’m not going anywhere.”
Apparently, somebody had other ideas.
Night of the Loving Dead Page 25