Penelope took the card and nodded. She watched numbly as they lifted Mrs. Sotheby inside the ambulance, closed the doors, and sped away, siren blaring. Penelope’s hands started shaking as the shock began to wear off and she headed back upstairs.
She looked down at the courtyard, at the side entrance to Christian’s apartment and the padlocked storm doors leading to the basement. Remembering the sound of gunshots over the phone, she scanned the patio but didn’t see anything out of place, no evidence of a struggle or fight. Anger burned through her chest as she stared at the house that had caused so much misery for herself, her friends and who knew how many innocent children. She pulled her phone from her pocket and called Officer Gomez.
When she answered, Penelope filled her in on what happened to Mrs. Sotheby.
“I’m in the neighborhood, I’ll check in with the hospital,” Officer Gomez said.
“She called me about hearing…” Penelope trailed off.
“Penelope?” Officer Gomez asked after she’d gone silent. “You there?”
“Yeah,” Penelope said, looking down into the courtyard. She watched Jesse enter through the gates, slinging an empty duffle bag over his shoulder. “Something is going on next door.”
“What?”
“I’m not sure,” Penelope said. She reached down and touched her purse on the desk, feeling the outline of the pistol underneath the leather, thinking about what Mrs. Sotheby said about hearing a gunshot. She watched Jesse pull open the side door and push his way inside, disappearing up the stairs. “The model I told you about, the one who was talking with Joyce this morning, is going up to Christian’s apartment.”
“Maybe he’s the new club promoter. Christian’s replacement.”
“Maybe. He knows me. Maybe I can get inside and look around some more,” Penelope said.
“Penelope, don’t,” Officer Gomez warned. “I’m in the neighborhood if you need—”
“I’m just going to say I’m there to follow up on the models for Arlena,” Penelope interrupted. “I’ll be fine. Gotta go.”
“Watch your back,” Officer Gomez warned as Penelope hung up.
A few minutes later, Penelope pressed the buzzer at MUI, peering in through the glass doors. When no one answered, she twisted the knob, but it was locked. She pressed the buzzer again, longer this time.
Jesse came in through the main room with an irritated look on his face, which relented somewhat when he saw it was Penelope at the door. He leaned out, his hand loose on the doorknob. “Yes?”
“Hi,” Penelope said, taking a quick glance over his shoulder. “Jesse, right?”
He nodded tersely, pressing his lips together, silently urging her to state her business.
“I’m here to follow up with Joyce. My employer is hiring some models.”
“Right,” Jesse said. “She’s not here right now, so you’ll have to come back later.” He began to close the door.
“Where is she? Do you know if she’ll be here? Because I can wait,” Penelope said quickly.
“I’m not sure how long she’s going to be. Probably a while, so…” Jesse looked over her shoulder someone walking past on the sidewalk, then back at Penelope.
“Do you work for Joyce now?” Penelope asked quickly. “Signed with the agency?”
Jesse shook his head, then began to nod slowly. “Yes, I’m one of hers now. They had an opening.”
Penelope cut her eyes towards the courtyard. “You’re taking Christian’s place?”
Jesse stepped back and opened the door wider. “You know about a lot of things around here,” he said with a faint smile. “You ask a lot of questions, I guess that’s why.” He began to close the door again.
“Wait, I’d like to leave a note for Joyce,” Penelope asked quickly.
“You can just tell me the message and I’ll make sure she gets it,” Jesse said, becoming more irritated.
“No,” Penelope said forcefully. “It’s confidential…from my boss.”
Jesse’s face tightened but he didn’t lose his smile. “Sure, come in,” he said, stepping aside.
Penelope went to the front desk and jotted something down on a pad of paper, then ripped it off. “Where is everyone today?”
Jesse raised his palms upward and shrugged his shoulders. His shirt cuff rose up and Penelope saw the tattoo on his wrist, and something clicked together in her mind. “Is that Venezuela?” she asked, nodding at his arm.
He looked down at the tattoo and back up at Penelope. “Yeah.”
“Are you from there?” Penelope asked, her heartbeat quickening.
“I am,” Jesse said. “But I don’t remember it. I’ve been here since I was a child. Do you need anything else, because I should get back to work.” He nodded towards the front door.
“Water,” Penelope said, faking a cough. “I’ve been in an accident and I have to take my medicine.”
Jesse sighed, and his shoulders caved. “Okay,” he said finally. “Wait here, I’ll get some.”
“Thanks,” Penelope said. She watched him push his way into the kitchen and hurried to the door after it swung closed, following him inside.
Jesse stood up straight in front of the refrigerator, a bottle of water in his hand.
“I was hoping to get a couple of crackers too, if that’s okay. My medicine makes me sick if I don’t eat,” Penelope said, laughing a little. “Sorry to be a bother.”
Jesse shook his head and handed her the water bottle. He turned toward the cabinets and began pulling them open one by one.
Penelope’s eyes flicked to the basement door and saw the padlock was undone, just hanging loosely on the latch. She looked at Jesse’s back and then down at the floor where she saw the duffle bag he had been carrying earlier.
“Here, I found some crackers,” Jesse said, turning back around. He followed Penelope’s gaze, then put the box of crackers on the table.
“Thanks,” Penelope said, taking a step closer to the bag. When she first saw the dark blue canvas bag over Jesse’s shoulder from across the courtyard it appeared empty, but it definitely wasn’t now. “You moving in upstairs?” Penelope asked, attempting to keep her voice casual.
“No,” Jesse said quickly, then changed his answer. “Yes, actually. I wasn’t going to at first, but it’s a great apartment.”
Penelope’s mind skipped back to the blood on the floor upstairs and she shivered inside. She looked again at the bag on the floor and noticed a red spot on the side, which appeared to be growing.
“Thanks for the water,” Penelope stammered, taking a step backwards towards the kitchen door. She felt the weight of the unloaded gun in her purse pulling on her shoulder. Jesse looked down at the duffle bag, then back up into Penelope’s eyes. She saw his expression harden, and then he lunged for her.
Penelope spun around and pushed through the door, bumping her injured wrist. She called out in pain and ran, hearing Jesse right behind her. Right as she got to the front door, he grabbed her from behind in a bear hug.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Jesse hissed in her ear.
“Let me go,” Penelope said sternly, refusing to allow fear into her voice.
“I don’t think so,” Jesse said, pulling her back from the door. Penelope braced herself against him and tried to twist away. He reached down and grabbed her wrist, squeezing it in his hand.
Penelope yelped in pain then cried, “Help!” to the empty sidewalk. Jesse wrenched her around to face him, still holding onto her injured arm.
“You’re nosy, and you don’t take hints very well,” Jesse said, looking down at her wrist.
“You’re the one who pushed me?” Penelope asked.
“And yet here you are, still poking around in things that don’t concern you,” Jesse said. He yanked her closer so their faces were almost touching. “You’ve seen way t
oo much, and now—”
His expression turned to surprised pain as Penelope stomped as hard as she could with her boot down onto his foot. He stumbled away from her, howling in pain, trying to raise his foot up to his hands. Penelope fumbled with the doorknob and finally got outside, skittering down the steps on wobbly legs. She looked up and down the empty sidewalk.
Jesse tackled her from behind, pushing her down to the sidewalk. She skinned her hands on the cold pavement blocking her face from the impact.
“Get off! Help!” Penelope shouted, hearing her voice bounce off the building across the street, the steel gray windows hiding everything behind them.
“Shut up,” Jesse demanded, hauling her up from the ground. He pulled her towards a parked car on the street, once again by her injured arm. Her hand had gone almost totally numb from the pain. “Get in,” he demanded when they reached the car, reaching into his pocket for his keys with one hand and popping open the truck. He released her wrist and pushed her square in the back towards the rear of the car.
The feel of his hands on her back ignited a rage in Penelope, the image of the yellow cab approaching the intersection dancing before her eyes. She turned towards Jesse and reared back, shoving him away from her with both hands, using all of her strength. Stars of pain shot through her vision, but she ignored it and charged toward him, pushing him again. Jesse lost his footing and fell against the side of the brownstone, twisting awkwardly and hitting his head on the concrete. Penelope reached into her purse and pulled out Mr. Sotheby’s antique gun, aiming it at Jesse while holding her numb hand up against her chest.
Penelope heard a car pull up on the street behind her and a familiar voice say, “Penelope, what’s going on?” Officer Gomez spoke with calm urgency. “Let me have the gun.” She stepped towards them carefully, glancing from Penelope to the trunk to Jesse, who was pulling himself up to a seated position on the sidewalk, dazed, blood dripping from his forehead.
Penelope handed Officer Gomez the gun. “It’s not loaded. He tried to stuff me in the trunk,” Penelope said shakily. “And there’s a bag in the kitchen with a body in it. Where are the girls?” she shouted at him.
“They’re free. Sinay took them up to the bodega to wait for me. I’m going to make sure they’re all safe,” Jesse said in a daze. “No one helped me, but I’m helping them get away.”
Officer Gomez’s eyes widened, and she tucked Mr. Sotheby’s gun into her belt at the small of her back. She handcuffed Jesse, who offered no resistance, and eyed the cut on his forehead as she called for an ambulance and backup. She pulled him to his feet and sat him in the backseat of her patrol car. He laid his head back against the seat and closed his eyes.
“You said there’s a body inside?” Officer Gomez said, gazing up at the brownstone.
“Yes, it’s Joyce,” Penelope said. “Jesse’s got a tattoo of Venezuela on his wrist. I saw it at the hotel suite, but I didn’t know what it was until I saw a map of the country and the colors of the flag at the bookstore. Jesse might be one of her victims.”
Chapter 36
Mrs. Sotheby’s eyes opened wide and Penelope smiled at her from the chair in her hospital room. Nurse Kurtz was there too, checking her vitals and adjusting the pillow under her head.
“Penelope, what are you doing here?” She sat up in bed and pulled her hospital gown closer to her neck.
“I hope it’s okay. I wanted to check on you to see how you were feeling.”
“Oh, of course, dear. I must look a fright though,” Mrs. Sotheby said, patting her hair with her fingers.
“You look wonderful,” Penelope said. “A lot happened next door this afternoon.”
Nurse Kurtz caught her eye and shook her head. Penelope had been warned by the doctor not to talk about the events that led up to Mrs. Sotheby’s episode, or about anything that happened afterwards. They didn’t want to cause her any stress or excitement until they determined how her heart was doing.
“We’ll talk about it later. I just want you to know things should be a lot quieter on your street from now on.”
“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” Mrs. Sotheby said.
“Okay,” Nurse Kurtz said. “Visiting hours are over, and the patient needs her rest. You can come back tomorrow.”
Penelope stood up. “Please call me if you need anything.”
“Thank you, dear. I will.”
Penelope leaned on the edge of a planter outside the hospital, her wrist wrapped in an ice pack Nurse Kurtz gave her after hearing about her tussle with Jesse. She was lost in thought, watching the traffic on the street and the people coming and going from the main hospital entrance. She didn’t see him at first, but finally registered that Joey was walking towards her. Penelope blinked and looked again, watching him walk quickly up the sidewalk.
“Penelope,” Joey said. His face a mix of concern and relief, he grabbed her up in his arms and hugged her gently, then pulled her away and looked at her bruised face. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have taken off on you like that.” He looked down at her iced wrist.
“Where were you?” Penelope asked.
“My cousin’s hunting cabin in the middle of nowhere. But I don’t want to leave you ever again, if I’m not too late.” Joey knelt down and gently raised her wrist to get a better look.
“It’s not too late for me,” Penelope said, fighting the urge to tear up. “When you were gone I realized I’ve come to rely on you, Joey. If that’s not something you’re ready for, this would be a good time to let me know.”
A pained look crossed Joey’s face as he stood up and hugged her again. “No. That’s the last thing I want. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you, Penny. I was jealous and acted recklessly at exactly the wrong time. I hope you can forgive me.”
Penelope leaned into him, closing her eyes and breathing in the familiar scent of his leather jacket. “Jealous of what?”
“Of Max. I see how he looks at you,” Joey said, rubbing her back lightly. “I felt like you were choosing him over me that night at the hotel.”
“Joey, Max flirts with everyone. Besides, he’s going to be a father. That should take up some of his time, clip his wings a little. And I choose you. I have no interest in anyone else. I love you.”
Joey pulled out of the hug and held her at arm’s length, his eyes glassy. “Max is going to be a father?”
Penelope laughed and pulled him close again, resting her head on his chest. “Yes. I’ll tell you about it later.”
Chapter 37
Jimmy leaned out of the doorway of Max’s building and smiled at Penelope. “You’re looking much better.”
“The bruises are gone, and look,” she raised her hand up and moved her wrist around in a circle, “almost one hundred percent movement back.”
“Lucky for you, in your line of work,” Jimmy said. He reached up and touched his earpiece, listening to a tinny voice for a second. “You here to see Max?”
“Yes, he asked me to stop by. It’s my last day on set here, so I was in the neighborhood.”
“Come in,” Jimmy said, ushering her inside and pulling the door closed behind her.
Penelope walked through the white marbled lobby, admiring the tall Christmas tree in the corner and the red bunting hung on the wall. A menorah sat in the opposite corner, and a large wreath was hung over the elevators.
Jimmy took his seat behind the desk and Penelope signed the ledger, her eyes catching on an entry halfway down the page. Sienna Wentworth had visited Max earlier that morning.
“I have to thank you for everything you helped me with,” Penelope said, laying down the pen and looking at him.
“Anytime. I’m glad everything turned out for Mr. Max,” Jimmy said, leaning back in his chair. “He’s a good guy. No one deserves to be accused of a crime they didn’t commit.”
Upstairs, Penelope knock
ed on Max’s door. It was opened almost immediately, and Max pulled her inside, wrapping her up in his long arms.
“Pen,” Max said, following her into the living room. He clicked off the television and sat down next to her. “Thanks for coming. I wanted to thank you in person for everything you did. I was really in trouble and you stood by me. I don’t know how I’m going to repay you for that.”
Penelope shook her head. “I don’t expect you to repay me, Max. But for your family’s sake, just take care of yourself and stay out of trouble. Especially with a baby on the way.”
Max stood up and went to the kitchen, returning with two glasses of wine. Penelope accepted hers gratefully.
Max relaxed back onto the couch. “Yes, that’s true.”
“How do you feel about such a big commitment, Max?” Penelope asked.
Max gazed out at the city lights through the picture window on the back wall. It was getting dark, but the city still buzzed. “I don’t know. Fine, I guess.”
“Seriously, Max. I thought you’d have more to say than that,” Penelope urged.
“Sienna is on her way back to England tonight,” Max said. “I’m not sure when we’ll see each other again.”
“Did you break up?”
“You can’t break up when you were never together,” Max said.
“Don’t you want to be involved in your child’s life?”
“I’ll be involved, from afar. Now that things have settled down, Sienna is okay again, and capable of taking care of herself, financially and otherwise.”
“Max, it’s none of my business, and you don’t have to say, but when Arlena and I asked Hannah about the baby, she said it wasn’t yours.”
Max leaned forward and set down his wineglass. He paused for a moment. “I agreed to say the baby is mine. But it’s really Christian’s.”
Penelope’s heart skipped a beat. “Christian’s? How can that be?”
Max looked at her, a small smile playing at his lips.
“Stop. I know how it could be...but how could it really be Christian’s? She acted like she barely knew him when I talked to her.”
MURDER ON A DESIGNER DIET Page 18