"Who is Hasan?"
I pointed to the picture on the wall. He still didn't make the connection.
"Hasan? The victim? Carillo?"
The words and names seemed to sink into his consciousness, ever so slowly.
"Let me call Larry, okay?"
He nodded, his eyes surveying my every move. I had no doubt he thought I was a loony-toon. I sat on the floor, took my cell phone from my pocket, and called Larry.
Answer, answer. Come on. He did!
I had to force myself not to rush words out as I tended to do when excited, especially now, with Logan staring at me. I told Larry my theory about the ring. He asked to talk to Logan, and although I wanted to kill him for that obvious lack of trust in my intuition, I passed the cell phone to the young man. They talked. Logan put my phone on speaker. I had no idea you could do that.
"We have a problem. We can't take the ring from the house. We have no search warrant. We aren't even supposed to be there," Larry said
"You aren't here," I said a little too fast and maybe too loud.
"Lella, listen to me, and realize my phone is also on speaker. How are we going to justify taking the ring? How is it going to look? The lawyer in the case is Logan's father and as for me, I'm your fiancé."
Huh? Fiancé? What happened to boyfriend? Focus, Lella!
"Logan is ferret-sitting. He's allowed to take some of her toys." I looked at Logan, and he nodded. "The ring was found in Lucy's stash—it could be her favorite toy. Boris Z. is still in Sun City, and he would know if this was the ring. Right? I could go visit him, bring him more pastries from Yasha. What do you say?"
I could hear voices. I waited. This was getting old. I'd had enough of Logan staring at me, and the ferret was getting antsy.
"Logan," this wasn't Larry's voice, "Logan, I'm sending a car. Where are you exactly?"
"I'm at Camelview Suites. Dad, what's going on?"
"We're going to send someone from the prosecutor's office, along with Larry. Go ahead and give them the ring. Don't worry, son—it's all legal. And if it turns out it's not the ring, we'll just give it back to your ferret. Give us fifteen minutes." Dennis Thompson didn't even do us the courtesy of a good-bye. A click and he was gone.
Logan handed me back my phone. We looked at each other then walked back to the front room where Rico had left the pet carrier. He put Lucy in the spacious traveling cage and let her keep the T-shirt. He packed up the food and the toys then looked at me.
"I'll walk you to the parking lot," I said.
He locked Vivian's front door and put the key in his pocket. I didn't ask where he'd hidden the ring—I was sure he was taking good care of it. I wasn't so sure he was happy about me escorting him to his car. Too bad. I wanted to make sure he waited for the car his father said was coming, especially since my fiancé would be in the car.
The car was a black sedan with government plates. I didn't recognize the man in a dark suit driving it, and I only exchanged a fast hello with Larry while the suit spoke to Logan. Things were exchanged. A piece of paper for the ring? Whatever. Five minutes later both cars were gone. I felt like waving good-bye to Lucy, but I figured she couldn't see me from inside the carrier anyway.
The gray sky looked a few shades darker. Maybe I should double-check to make sure the windows of my Mustang were closed? I walked to the guest parking lot.
The place looked pretty deserted. I supposed the flight attendants must be up, up and away. Even Shannon was gone—she'd told me two days ago that she was going back to work. Except…parked right smack in the center of the lot was Shannon's Jeep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I promised myself I wasn't going to pester Larry. It had been hours since he'd picked up the ring and gone to see Boris Z. He would call me if he had something to say. The edginess first experienced in the morning when Rico had driven Vivian to the hospital, and then the excitement from when Logan had come to get the ferret, plus being here all alone with my cat, had slowly pushed me to the borderline of fear.
Unexplained fear, unjustifiable fear.
When I was a little girl I would sometimes go to the cemetery with my grandmother, and I would hold onto her hand for dear life. One day she asked me why I did that.
"I'm afraid," I said.
"What are you afraid of?" Nonna asked.
"The dead," I whispered.
"I see. What can dead people do to you to make you so afraid?"
"Um, I don't know." That was a tough question. "Maybe…maybe they'll kill me?"
Nonna nodded. We walked a little more. "Why wouldn't they kill me too?"
"Because you're a grown-up."
She smiled. "You think grown-ups are invincible, don't you?" She bent down and kissed my forehead.
I was now a grown-up, far from invincible and still more afraid of isolation than of crowds. Go figure. Call, Larry, call. Even the weather conspired to make me come unglued. Sitting inside the air-conditioned room looking at the gloomy gray skies felt like a November morning in Italy.
Okay, enough! Time to snap out of it.
I should do laundry. Good idea. There was a plastic basket in the closet that would be perfect. I went into the bedroom and started collecting my dirty clothes that I had let pile up on the closet floor.
Should I wash Larry's stuff? The only laundry I'd ever done for him was the occasional shirt he would take off after spilling something on it while at my place. He always had a change of clothes in the trunk of his car. I wasn't that organized. I felt funny about going through his things, and I still hadn't gotten over that fiancé thing he'd dropped on me. Most of my clothes were light-colored cottons. I grabbed one of his dress shirts and added it to my load.
Five minutes later I was headed to the laundry room. The first gust of wind caught me completely unprepared, and I almost dropped the laundry basket. Whoa, I hadn't seen that coming. The tops of the old trees dotting the complex swayed in unison like a synchronized event, and the rustling from their leaves reminded me of taffeta gowns in ballrooms of yesteryear. Stop it. My edginess made it hard to breathe. I hurried to get to the protected cul-de-sac before the next round of gusting wind found me.
Inside the laundry room it was sort of dark, with only one small window covered by a mini-blind that was badly in need of replacement. Both the washing machines and the dryers seemed larger than the regular ones found in homes. I could get away with just one load. Without my reading glasses, which I'd forgotten, it was difficult to read all the instructions, so at some point I had to turn on the lonely light bulb in the place.
Again the impression of a wintery Italian day clouded my mind. I wasn't going to stand around and watch the washing machine churn for the next forty minutes. Should I lock the door after leaving? Not that it mattered much, I was the only guest remaining, I thought. And that reflection sent my heart racing like it had when I was a child in the cemetery.
Damn.
Always thrifty-minded, I turned off the light, and locked the door behind me after all. Noises could be heard from far away. How far? It wasn't from Camelback Road, that I knew. The closed-in feeling of the cul-de-sac now made me claustrophobic. I held my phone in one hand, my pool key in the other. The house key was safely tucked into my pocket.
That noise again. What could it be? I watched the sky closing in, darker and darker, low clouds looking more like smears than clouds dashed along pushed by the wind. I walked toward the end of the path, and the thumping sounded even closer. It came from the pool area.
Must be a door or something. Should I go take a look? Might as well check it out before it got completely dark. I walked against the wind, and particles of dust hit my bare legs and my face. I kept my head down to protect my eyes. As soon as I turned the corner I saw him—Rico. Rico?
I called out to the man, but I doubted he could hear me, busy as he was stacking the outdoor furniture under the covered part of the pool patio which ran the length of the building housing the bathrooms. It was the pool gate t
hat constantly slammed that made the noise I'd heard. He noticed me seconds before I reached him.
"Lella, what are you doing here? Go back home. It's going to be a bad one."
"Is it one of those, you know, haboob?"
"No, no. We hardly get those dust storms here. It's a summer storm, a little early, but still a storm. We're bound to get some badly needed rain."
"What's happening with Vivian?" I asked.
"She's still in the hospital. She's resting but not well enough to go home yet. I had to come back and do this, otherwise some of the furniture would end up at the bottom of the pool, and it's a bitch to get it out. We don't get many storms, and they don't last long, but they can be fierce. Listen to me—go back to your place, close the windows, and you'll be fine. We may lose power for a while, but don't be concerned. It happens. Do you have a flashlight?"
A bolt of lightning lit up the sky, and a clap of thunder followed somewhere in the distance.
"I don't know. I'll ask Larry. Is everyone gone? Are we the only ones left in the whole complex? I wish Shannon were still here instead of having to go back to work. I could go say hi—"
Rico stopped moving furniture. "Shannon is bad news. You'd better stay away from her," he said very matter-of-factly. "Going back to work—to do what?"
I wasn't sure if the question was directed at me but I answered anyway, "She's a flight attendant with—"
"Was a flight attendant. Got fired years ago after showing up to work drunk. Listen to me. Forget Shannon. Go back to your place." He looked at the sky. "It's about to break loose."
"Well, if I can help, you know where to find me."
He wasn't paying much attention to me. He went back to moving furniture. At the pool gate I stopped. Should I lock it? Why? There wasn't a soul around but us, and I was pretty sure neither of us was in the mood for a swim.
Did he really mean that about Shannon? And why would she lie to me?
I tried to rush, almost bent in two—the wind was that strong. Even the lamppost was getting a workout. Shadows danced on the walls and the path as I hurried by. It was a battle to make it to our front door. Wow.
Should I move the outdoor chairs into the corner like Rico did? Well, I wasn't going out there again. I could taste the dirt on my lips. Who would have guessed, a storm in sunny Arizona? This time the thunder felt very near. I went to close the drapes; I was going to pretend there was no storm. I would watch something on television, something funny, and I would not call Larry or Kyle.
Just then the phone chimed. I hurried to answer it.
"Lella, is it raining there?"
Larry. Thank you, God. "No, not yet, but the wind is really strong, and Rico said we may lose power. Do we have any flashlights in this place?" I blurted all that out without stopping for a breath.
"Rico is there?"
"He came from the hospital to stash away the outdoor furniture. I spoke to him at the pool."
"Lella, you shouldn't be out in this weather."
"It's okay. I was coming back from doing laundry and—"
"Laundry can wait. I'll try to get back as soon as possible. I'm calling you from the men's room," he lowered his voice, "and I wanted to tell you about the ring."
"Oh, I forgot about the ring. So, what did Boris say—was it Hasan's?"
"Yes and no."
"Please Larry, not today; I'm not in the mood for riddles."
"I'm not joking. Boris said the ring looked very familiar, but it could be Hasan's or Valeri's. He claims he saw a similar ring on both men."
"At the same time?" I asked.
"Good question but I don't have an answer for you. His theory is that the ring was something they wore, sort of a way to be recognized. He assumed they both worked for the same organization. But that's just that—his theory. I think the ring was Hasan's and Valeri took it from him after he killed him."
"How did it end up in Lucy's playpen?"
"That, I don't know. Hey, got to go. They're looking for me. The flashlight…yes, I have one, but it's in my car. It came with the emergency kit. I'm so sorry. Stay safe. I'll be back as soon as possible. I'll bring home some takeout food?"
"I can't think about eating right now."
I heard voices at the other end, then Larry saying, "I'm here, give me a minute." Then a whisper to me, "Ciao." The ciao made me feel special.
Suddenly the idea of watching television lost its appeal. If the ring Logan found was the same one Vivian called her wedding ring, it had to be Hasan's. I couldn't go asking Rico without confessing that Logan had given the ring to—to whom? The people in charge? Would Shannon know about the ring? Maybe she was the maid-of-honor at the wedding that didn't happen?
I heard raindrops hitting the roof, spotty and noisy. My laundry had to be done, ready for the dryer. I wasn't going to let it stay in the washing machine until the storm was over because then it would smell funny. I grabbed a large towel to cover my head and shoulders, picked up my phone and keys, and rushed out the door.
The wind was vicious, but the large drops of rain hitting me felt refreshing. I ran and reached the door of the laundry room in a state of giddiness. Once again I'd forgotten my reading glasses, but not the quarters—they were next to my house key in a Ziploc bag in my pocket.
I quickly moved the wet clothes from the washing machine to the dryer then closed it tightly. The rain had picked up speed, and the tip tap on the roof sounded like a stampede. I needed to get out of there in a hurry. I fished the plastic bag from my pocket and clearly heard the clink, clink, of the house key hitting the concrete floor.
Maledizione.
I squatted down but couldn't see it. If only I had my glasses! Why? Why now? I felt around the floor with my hands, just as Vivian had done when looking for her ring, and like Vivian I found nothing. What if the key had bounced and slipped under a washing machine? Larry had a second key. I didn't want to call him.
Then it hit me—Rico would have a key to the place—he had to. Okay then, problem solved. I put the quarters in, turned the knob, and after wrapping myself in the towel again I headed to the pool to look for Rico.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The rain fell at an angle or maybe the wind fed the illusion. Drops bounced against the concrete path and sounded like exploding bullets from a firing squad. My feet in my open-toed sandals made squishy noises only I could hear. I was drenched, but in all the haste to reach the pool and find Rico I kept thinking how much I would like a glass of water. A glass of water!
The pool gate, still unlocked, slammed against the metal frame. No outdoor furniture was left exposed. Everything appeared neatly stacked, but I couldn't see Rico. He had to be around. Certainly he wouldn't have left without locking up.
I hesitated then stepped under the patio roof to catch my breath. It looked like nighttime. My towel had soaked up the rain, and it felt like wet lead against my shoulders. I removed it and draped it over the stack of plastic chairs.
Maybe Rico was on the other side of the building? I walked with my hands pressed against my chest to keep my phone, which I held, out of the rain. This small object suddenly had become my lifesaver. I didn't know if it was the dip in temperature or the stress, but I found myself shaking from inside out.
I picked up the pace, hoping it would help to calm my nerves. When I cleared the corner I noticed light coming from a door that had been left ajar. It was the same massive door where we'd found Vivian drunk, in her wedding dress. It must be a storage space. That made sense. I headed that way, with a sense of relief when my phone chimed.
"Hi Larry."
"Lella? You sound—breathless? Are you okay?"
"Look, I'm trying to locate Rico 'cause I accidentally locked myself out. I'm cold and wet."
"You locked yourself out of the house? Why didn't you call me?! I was on my way home, but there are some power lines down due to the storm, so I can't take the usual route. I'm either going to find an alternate way or leave my car here and ask one of the emerg
ency vehicles to give me a lift. Can you wait?"
"If I find Rico I'll have him unlock the door. Otherwise, well, it's not like I have much choice. I can't even sit in my car—it's locked, and the keys are in my purse, and the purse is in the house…" I tried to make it sound like a sing-along, to hide my frustration. Not sure I succeeded.
"Where are you, specifically?"
I stood by the wooden door, my hand on the heavy, metal handle. I noticed the keyhole. How old was this place?
"The building by the pool, you know," I sighed.
"Where we found the jilted bride? Sweetie, do me a favor. Go visit the pregnant mom or Shannon, just don't stay out in the rain, in the dark."
"Guess what I found out? Shannon lied about working as a flight attendant. She's jobless, got herself fired years ago. How about that?"
"Right now I only care to know that you are safe and comfortable, okay?"
"Okay, I'm checking to see if Rico is inside and then we'll see."
"I'm staying on the phone."
"Oh, how are you driving? With your feet?"
My attempts at humor were hitting a wall. I opened the door and peeked in. The inside was lit by a single bulb. I was right, a storage place full of odds and ends: a few pool chairs that had seen better days, an outdoor umbrella, lots of boxes, and gardening tools, even a lawnmower that looked like an antique.
"This place needs some good cleaning—I can smell the dust," I said to Larry. "Oh, what have we got here?" In the furthest corner I could see a large dresser, no—too big for that, covered by a tattered quilt.
"Lella, get out of there!"
"Shush. I bet it's an antique, maybe belonged to Vivian's parents." I bent down and lifted a corner of the quilt. "Nah. It's a metal box. No, no. Oh, it's an old freezer. Hey, it works—I can hear it buzzing."
"Lella, get out of there. Now."
"Damn. The power went off."
What now? For a minute I was blinded by the darkness and couldn't even detect shadows. I could hear Larry talking on the phone, He didn't sound too happy. I tried to remember the direction of the door in comparison to the freezer when I heard voices, angry voices.
Murder Under the Desert Moon Page 16