by Jean Martino
“It makes sense,” he said. “Do you know of any friends of Michael and Cindy’s who live in Australia?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s part of the problem. I don’t know who he could be.”
“Well then give me that license plate number, and the rental agency name and address Jessica gave you and I’ll see if I can get more information on it.”
She stood up and Scott went to help her. “I’m alright, Scott,” she said, embarrassed at what had happened earlier. “Whatever that was, it has passed. See?” She held out her hands and he looked at them and saw they were as steady as a rock.
He grinned and patted her on her butt as she walked past him. “Just don’t ever do that again to me,” he yelled after her. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”
Returning with the note paper she handed it to him, then said. “Scott, why do you think this Parkinson wants me to be with you at the airport tomorrow?”
Stuffing the paper into his jacket pocket, he looked up at her, his face wearing a more serious expression than she had ever seen on it. It gave her the shivers.
“I’m not sure you want to hear this,” he said.
“I think I do,” she said. “If you’re afraid I might go ballistic again, don’t worry. I am ok again now. I promise. So tell me, please.”
He stared at her for a few seconds then nodded. “There’s only one reason I can think of for why he wants you to be there, and you won’t like what I say but I want to be one hundred percent honest with you. I think he might be planning, with possibly the help of one or two of Denholm’s men, to take you hostage.”
“What!”
“It’s ok, honey, he won’t get that chance. I’ve arranged for a couple of undercover cops from the Sacramento police department to be there and make sure nothing like that happens.”
“But why would he want to even do that for God’s sake!”
“It’s the only way Denholm and his gang could flush Michael out of hiding. If they kidnapped you then it would be in all the papers and Michael would hear about it and have to contact someone, probably Denholm, to procure your release. I knew something rang phony about what this Parkinson said about knowing the whereabouts of Michael and Cindy, and when he said he would not give out any information unless you were present, I knew then that he had a gun to his head so to speak; that his client, namely Denholm, was threatening him unless he cooperated. I think he expected me to see through it. Detectives aren’t usually that obvious in their intentions.”
“So you want me to go with you?”
Scott shook his head. “If I had a choice; no, I wouldn’t want to expose you to that kind of a risk. But if you aren’t there Parkinson won’t even approach me. As it is I don’t think he has a clue where Michael and Cindy are. I think it’s just a ruse.”
“But why even meet him if you know he doesn’t know where Michael and Cindy are?”
Scott waited a few seconds before answering. He was tired and needed to get some sleep. All day working with Max had drained him. But she needed answers too. “It’s the only way we have right now,” he said, “of getting Denholm off the street and clearing the way for Michael and Cindy to come out of hiding and be safe. We need to appear to be going along with Parkinson so they think their plan is working. We need you there to flush them out so we can turn the tables on them, arrest them and take them into custody and then link them to Denholm and issue a warrant for his arrest.”
“Oh my God!” she cried, turning and walking into the kitchen.
He followed her and put his arms around her as she stared out the window. “You don’t have to do it, Linda,” he said. “Let’s just forget it.”
“I do,” she said angrily, spinning around to face him. “If it will put those creeps behind bars and protect Michael and Cindy, I have to. I’m not afraid. Just shocked. And disappointed. It will help Michael and Cindy, won’t it?”
“I’m hoping if the papers learn of the attempted kidnapping then Michael would hear about that too and know you are in California and that you are safe. It could make him want to contact you too and he would do that through the San Francisco police department. If that happens then I could talk to him and explain what has happened and how we will be able to clear his name. In the end it will depend on whether Michael has the guts to stand up to those bastards.”
“And testify against them?”
“Perhaps the FBI will have enough information after we have finished our cross checking to not need Michael to testify.”
She moved closer to him, feeling his arms wrapping protectively around her. Obviously Michael and Cindy were somewhere in San Francisco now. Everything led to that belief. All she had to do was go along with this lunacy tomorrow and try to help them somehow. It was the least she could do.
Kissing her on her forehead, he held her tighter, wanting her to know he would protect her no matter what happened. As he turned his head, his eyes caught on the answering machine and he became suddenly alert, letting her go and marching quickly over to the phone. “Damn,” he cried, seeing the extension cord running from the outlet and pulling it out. He grasped the small microphone in his hand. Who the hell could have gotten into the house and planted a bug when Linda had been there all day? He walked quickly around the room checking and then down the hallway.
Still in shock from what he had told her, Linda stared at him with a frown. “What is it?” she asked, when he came back holding two small microphones.
“Was anyone here today?” he asked.
“No.”
“Someone had to get in here to plant these,” he said, holding them up for her to see. “Someone got in here and bugged the phones. And they’ve also been through my den; the files in my filing cabinet and the desk drawers are turned inside out.”
“Oh my God,” she whispered, looking up at him with a stricken face. “I had to go out for a walk,” she said. “I was feeling restless, couldn’t sit still. But I didn’t see anyone out there watching the house. I only walked for a half hour and then came back.”
“But you didn’t have a key,” he said, staring at her. “How did you get back in?”
“I... I didn’t lock the door. I didn’t think I’d be gone that long and I...”
Scott groaned aloud, his face tightening as he stared at her in surprise. She waited for him to tell her how stupid she had been, she wanted to crawl into a corner and hide at the look of disgust on his face. But he said nothing; only turned away from her and headed down the hall to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
The world seemed to have suddenly gone darker for her, darker than it had ever been. How could she have done something that stupid after all he was doing to try to help her? Someone could have heard everything they said, including about the discs Benny had given Scott, and if it had been the FBI who was eavesdropping then now Benny would be under investigation because surely they would find out who he was. Oh my God! If it was those other people then they could track Benny too and...
She ran down the hall and pounded on the bathroom door. “Scott,” she cried. “Please forgive me. I know I was stupid to do that. I have no excuse. I just needed to get outside and feel normal again---”
The door opened and Scott pushed past her and walked to the bedroom. “Don’t say anymore right now,” he said sternly. “We’ll talk in the morning.”
“Don’t treat me like a child!” she cried, following him into the room. “I know I was wrong leaving the house like that. I should have listened to you and done what you told me. But I am getting so tired of being cooped up like this. I feel like I need permission to breathe even.”
He continued to undress, hanging his clothes in the closet as though she was not even there and hadn’t even spoken. She stared at him in amazement for a few moments then turned and walked out of the room. Damn him! He had no right to treat her like this. Tomorrow she would go with him to the San Francisco airport and when she saw that Parkinson man she would tell hi
m to stop this right now. She wasn’t afraid of him or what they would do to her. She could take care of herself. Hadn’t she always taken care of herself? She didn’t need Scott or the police or the FBI even. She would find Michael and Cindy somehow on her own and make them face up to what Michael had been involved in and stop this hiding as though they were the criminals.
She curled up on the couch, watching the light from the bedroom spilling into the hallway, not knowing if she should go in there to sleep. This wasn’t her house. She had no right to be there. It had all been a terrible mistake getting Scott involved in her problems. She cried softly, not wanting him to hear her, praying he would come out and tell her he forgave her. The last thing she wanted to do was to hurt him and she had now and there wasn’t a thing she could do to undo that. When the light went out she closed her eyes and tried not to think. Whatever happened now it was never going to be the same between them again. She had betrayed his trust.
* *
Saturday morning, June 28th:
It was still dark when she woke up, shivering and with an ache in her back to match the ache in her heart. Scott had not even tried to get her to come to bed. And that hurt more than anything. She struggled to sit up, then walked quietly down the hall, stopping at the bedroom door and hearing his steady breathing. He was sleeping, she thought, as though nothing had happened between them, as though he didn’t even care that she had slept all night on the damn couch without even a blanket to cover her. Glancing at the clock she saw it was only 5:15 am, but there was no way she could sleep anymore now. Her anger at his obvious lack of concern for her increased as she crept around in the bedroom, with only the street light outside coming through the window to see with, as she collected fresh clothes and her overnight case. He never even woke up. How he could sleep so peacefully when she was hurting so badly was something she couldn’t understand.
A half hour later, showered and dressed in the tan pantsuit she had bought the day she and Maggie had gone shopping, she returned to the kitchen and called for a taxi, telling the driver to meet her at the corner of the street. Then she wrote a note to Scott, telling him she was sorry for what she had done and would be at the airport at 1 pm.
The sky was beginning to lighten as she quietly closed the door, making sure the dead bolt latch caught before walking quickly to the corner. If anyone was watching and saw her she didn’t care. She’d had enough of this hiding from people she didn’t know and couldn‘t even see. It was time for her to break out of that cocoon Scott had wrapped her in and do what she had to in order to find her daughter. Vito would have expected it. The thought of Vito at that moment brought tears burning behind her eyes. He should be here with her now, helping her damn it. Why wasn’t he here?
After what seemed an interminable time, the taxi arrived and Linda got inside and asked him to take her to San Francisco.
“It’s an hour’s drive,” he said. “Cost you.”
“I can pay,” she replied, then took a hundred dollar bill out of her purse and handed it to him. “I’ll pay whatever more it costs when we get there. I want to go to the Mark Hopkins hotel.”
He drove off as she sat in the back seat and closed her eyes. The pain inside her for what had happened between her and Scott remained, but she also felt a sense of freedom knowing she had finally taken control, despite not knowing exactly what to do when she got to San Francisco. She only knew that Cindy was there and she had to find her somehow. As if sensing her need to be quiet, the driver said nothing, concentrating on the traffic as he drove and listening to early morning talkback radio.
“D’you mind the radio being on?” he asked.
“No,” she said tiredly, “it’s ok.”
She dozed off, not wanting to think anymore, allowing her mind to shut down. She didn’t know how long she had slept but suddenly the noises were becoming more intense and forced her to open her eyes. They were on a freeway heading into the city surrounded by early morning traffic and she glanced at the clock in the panel and saw it was just after 8 am. “Are we almost there?” she asked, sitting up straighter and re-arranging her clothes.
“Ten more minutes,” he said, concentrating on the traffic.
Good, she thought, longing for a strong cup of coffee to set her adrenalin going again. For a second her mind fled back to Scott and she wondered how he would feel finding her note, and the ache in her chest returned. But then she remembered how he had left her to sleep on the couch like that and she took a deep breath. No one was going to treat her like that. Not even Scott.
The noise of the city increased as the taxi pulled up outside the Mark Hopkins hotel. She paid him the difference and thanked him for driving her there and then walked into the foyer. “I need a room for tonight,” she told the clerk. “I need to check in right away. Do you have anything available?”
The room clerk checked and found one on the fifth floor. After signing the register he handed her the key and looked past her to the bell boy. “I don’t have any luggage with me right now,” she said, knowing what he was looking for. “Just arrived from Australia and apparently my luggage went on a later flight.”
Inside the room, she immediately dropped her purse on the bed and sat on the edge of it to pick up the phone. “I need to get the number for a Benny Freedom, Beechwood Avenue, Costa Mesa, California,” she told the operator, praying Benny didn’t have an unlisted number. To her relief, he didn’t, and she wrote it down on the hotel pad and then dialed it.
A woman’s voice answered on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Mrs. Freedom?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t know me,” said Linda. “My name is Linda Rossi, I am Cindy Brampton’s mother, and I was wondering if I could have a word with Benny please.”
“Just a moment,” said the woman, then Linda heard muffled talking and in a second Benny’s voice came over the line.
“Mrs. Rossi?” he said in a surprised voice.
“Hello Benny,” she said. “It’s good to talk to you again. How are you?”
“I’m fine thanks, and how about you? Where are you calling from?”
“I’m in San Francisco, at the Mark Hopkins hotel,” she said. “I wanted to have a word with you Benny, about Michael and Cindy.”
There was silence on the other end.
“Benny, I know about the discs and your conversation with Detective Walker. I’ve been staying with him up till this morning. I appreciate all you have done to help Michael and Cindy, Benny. You have proven to be a very good friend.”
“I don’t know where they are Mrs. Rossi, please understand that.”
“Of course,” she said. “I understand, honest I do. But Benny I know they are here in San Francisco somewhere. They mailed me a brochure on this city to my home in Australia, from Newport Beach, the day Cindy was supposed to have flown to Australia. Although it didn’t have a return address on the envelope, and it contained no message from them, I know they sent it.”
More silence. She knew he was struggling with his feelings for her. She had known him since he was a kid. She knew Benny was a good person. “I still can’t help you,” he said finally.
“I think you can, Benny,” she said. “Perhaps you don’t know exactly where they are but I think you know something that would help me find them. Please, Benny, just let me ask you a few questions and perhaps we can work it out together.”
“Mrs. Rossi, do you understand the danger they are in and why they have to remain in hiding?”
“I do,” she said. “But I also know, Benny, that this has to be brought out into the open now. It has become too complicated and dangerous for them. I can’t even begin to imagine what they’re going through right now. I want only to help them Benny. I love them both very much as you know.”
She heard a big sigh coming from the other end of the phone. “Is Detective Walker with you?” he asked.
“No, I’m alone.”
“I don’t know how I can help,” he said in a tir
ed voice, “but I’ll try.”
“Thank you so much, Benny. Now can you tell me if they have ever been to San Francisco to the best of your knowledge?”
“Once that I know of.”
“For a vacation?
“Yes.”
“And did they tell you where they stayed and what places they went to?”
He was silent for a moment and she knew he was trying to remember so said nothing.
“Well,” he said, “far as I can remember it was a year ago. They drove up there for a long weekend. I think they stayed at a hotel in the city but I can’t remember... oh wait, yes I know, it was the Sheraton. Yes, I remember that because Cindy was going on and on about how they’d felt an earth tremor while there and it scared the heck out of her.”