by Janet Dailey
Deke smirked at her through the screen. “What did we do with that big fake engagement ring you wore at the ball?”
“Around here somewhere. I think I brought it with me. But I’m not going to wear it again.” Kelly turned her head when the concierge buzzer rang. “That’s the food. Gotta go.”
The following afternoon, Kelly and Deke waited in his car for Natalie Conrad to show. The street outside the old factory was deserted as the day began to shade into dusk.
“I’m still not sure I should have agreed to this.”
“You’re with me,” Deke said.
Kelly shook her head. “When are you not totally sure of yourself?”
“Oh, it happens,” he answered, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.
The purring roar of an expensive sports car got their attention. Natalie pulled over in front of them, parking at a clumsy angle.
Deke got out and Kelly quickly followed suit. They walked to the side of the car and Deke opened Natalie’s door for her. He stepped back as her flawless legs swung to the curb. As always, she was elegantly dressed.
“Thank you,” she said to him. “Russ Thorn, isn’t it?”
“Yes. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Conrad. I didn’t have a chance to at the ball.” He helped her out.
“Hello, Kelly,” Natalie said when she was standing. She offered an air-kiss. “Don’t you look lovely.” The compliment was mechanical. “I’m so glad you found the time for us. I have to be back in Dallas even sooner than I thought. Something’s come up. The museum board insists that I appear in person.”
Deke avoided Kelly’s gaze.
Luc got out of the other side of the car and came around. He had starving-artist cheekbones and piercing dark eyes, with unkempt black hair that had streaks of paint in it. He was taller than Natalie, but not by much. And he was a whole lot younger.
“Luc, this is Russ and Kelly.”
He spoke only to Kelly. “The space is fantastic. But you knew that, eh?”
“I only saw it once,” she replied. “How did you get permits so quickly?”
“No need for that,” he answered. “I backed up a truck to the loading dock and went in with my materials and a ladder. No one was inside and no one stopped me.” He went ahead, taking long strides. “I prefer to work alone.”
Natalie tried to keep up with him as Kelly and Deke exchanged a look. She and Luc went in together and closed the door behind them.
“Now what?” Deke asked. “Maybe I don’t want to know.”
Kelly stood close to him. “I have no idea.”
Natalie came out in another minute and waved them up the stairs. “Luc says you may enter,” she called.
“Ready, Mrs. Thorn?” he said under his breath.
“Don’t call me that,” Kelly muttered. But she took his arm.
They stopped on the threshold, adjusting to the difference in light. Kelly could hear Natalie’s heels clicking, but she couldn’t see her. There was some sort of giant mess ahead of them. Luc’s disembodied voice came from the darkest part of the space. “Look up.”
Kelly did. The artist switched on a huge flashlight. A giant spiderweb of frayed rope had been hung from the beams, snarled around found objects—thrown-away baby dolls with matted hair, plastic bleach bottles, old sneakers with no laces.
“The debris of civilization, straight from the gutter,” Natalie said grandly, stepping forward. “Marvelous work.”
Kelly looked at her without saying anything, then at the installation. She still couldn’t see Luc. Then Kelly saw something swinging at the center of the web. A female figure was wrapped in rope and hanging upside down. For a fleeting second, Kelly recoiled. Luc obviously had strange ideas about women—and no talent for anything but hustling rich ones.
“I agree,” Deke said. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Marvelous is the word.”
“Luc is an unknown,” she said airily. “But I believe in encouraging emerging artists.”
He didn’t bat an eye. “May I ask what you paid for it?”
So much for charm. Kelly gave Deke a sneaky pinch as a warning.
“Perhaps too much,” Natalie replied.
Deke didn’t stop. “Will it be on display in the new museum, Mrs. Conrad?”
Natalie moved into a patch of light from the high windows. The effect was unflattering and she seemed suddenly older. Her mouth thinned as she glared at him. Then she collected herself. “What a good idea. Yes, perhaps. In time.”
Luc finally showed, walking around the web. “Never. My art belongs here. You bought it, but you don’t own it.”
“Don’t be difficult,” she said to the young artist, her voice thin and high. “I expect something for my money.”
Deke walked Kelly away and out of sight, but they could still hear the quarrel.
Kelly had a banging headache by the time they made their escape. “Do you believe those two?”
Deke was waiting for her to put on her seat belt before he pulled out from behind Natalie Conrad’s sports car. “Takes all kinds.”
“I think she’s losing her mind.”
He smiled slightly. “Natalie Conrad is definitely under a lot of stress. So are you.”
Kelly left the seat belt unfastened and rubbed her temples. “You noticed. Do you have any aspirin?”
“Not in my car. Come on, buckle up.” Deke glanced over at her. “Sorry I talked you into this. But there was no other way for me to meet Natalie.”
“Happy to help,” Kelly replied sarcastically.
Deke didn’t reply, his dark eyes suddenly intent on the rearview mirror. “Now who is that?”
“Huh?”
Deke swore violently as he pushed her head down. He threw himself over her and forced her whole body below the level of the dashboard.
There was a screech of brakes and spinning wheels. Bullets cracked the side window she had just looked out of.
They both heard the other vehicle speed away but they stayed down for a minute, breathing hard. Slowly, Deke lifted himself. “Stay down.”
She did.
“They’re gone,” he said. “A drive-by. I should have known.” His hand moved to her shoulder as he helped her lift up, still breathing hard.
CHAPTER 16
They sat back, stunned, their ears ringing. Kelly brushed the crumbled safety glass into a heap in her lap, dazedly wondering what she ought to do with it.
Deke called Hux first, and then Lieutenant Dwight. “On their way,” he told her.
Kelly turned to look at him. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
He didn’t get a chance to answer. Natalie Conrad came out of the old factory, running awkwardly in her high heels.
“What on earth happened?” she called.
“Let me handle this,” Deke warned Kelly.
“Go for it.”
He unlatched his door and got out. “It’s okay, Mrs. Conrad.”
“It most certainly isn’t! Look at that window. Why is Kelly still sitting inside? Is she hurt?”
Deke interposed his brawny body between Natalie and the car. He caught her shoulders.
“Let me go,” the older woman said imperiously. He did but he stayed close to her, anticipating her every move as she bent down and peered at the disintegrated window next to Kelly. “Do you think you can walk, dear? Perhaps she shouldn’t try to. I’ll stay here with her while you go for help, Russ.”
“I called. Someone’s coming.”
Even in a state of semi-shock, Kelly was well aware that Deke was keeping Natalie at a distance.
“Are you injured, Kelly?” the older woman asked nervously.
“No. Just catching my breath. Please don’t fuss, Natalie.”
“I’m so sorry.” The older woman straightened up, rubbing the small of her back. “Who was it?” she asked. “How did they do it?”
“Two guys, I think. One had a baseball bat and the other had a tire iron,” Deke said. “They saw me using my smartphon
e when I came out and I guess they wanted one just like it.”
Natalie frowned at him. “But I thought I heard gunfire. And Kelly was shot at before—not that far from here. Horrible. Just horrible.”
“But you didn’t, Mrs. Conrad. Why don’t you sit down right there just in case they ran into the factory—and here comes Luc.” Deke lifted his head and called to the artist. “Did you see anyone go inside?”
“No. What’s going on?” He stayed where he was, looking indifferently at the car.
“I was sure I heard bullets,” Natalie said to Deke when he turned to her again.
“You know, these empty lots echo,” he said vaguely, gesturing toward the one across from the factory. “Your ears will play tricks on you.”
Natalie’s agitated gaze narrowed as if she found the idea insulting.
“Hmm.” She walked a few steps away and leaned against her car. Then she thought better of it and moved away to sit down on a low brick wall, smoothing her dress under her.
“Kelly, do get out of that car and come here. Russ, perhaps you could help her out.”
Kelly scooped up the crumbled glass in her lap and poured it into the cup holder. Then she saw the bullet hole in the center divider. She and Deke had been very lucky.
Natalie Conrad was right about hearing gunfire. Kelly understood that he had his reasons for misleading her. She’d find out what they were the second they were alone.
“You think she set us up?” Kelly asked, leaning in to hear his reply. They were in the hospital cafeteria having coffee.
Thanks to Hux, the mandated exam for Deke in a non-public room had been offered to her as well. Neither she nor Deke had been injured. The attending doctor didn’t ask for details.
Hux had returned to the old factory with an officer and driven the damaged car away for forensic analysis and retrieval of bullet fragments. The officer had returned to the hospital with Hux’s car and left it in the lot for them on the lieutenant’s orders.
“No idea. It’s not impossible,” Deke said.
Hospital staff in scrubs and doctor coats milled around the open space, picking up food and avoiding each other with fluid moves that made them resemble fish in a giant white aquarium. Kelly looked at them, still feeling strange. The ringing in her ears wasn’t entirely gone. The clatter of trays at the trash receptacles bothered her.
“When I told her about the bat and the tire iron, she gave me the weirdest look, Kelly.”
She glanced at him absently. “That doesn’t prove anything. You may be taking paranoia too far.”
“When you do what I do for a living, Kelly, there is no such thing as too much paranoia. There is a contract out on you. You have been threatened, sideswiped, and shot at. Crude but effective.”
“And not Natalie’s style,” Kelly pointed out.
Deke rolled his eyes. “I didn’t hear you say that. I promise never to remind you that you said that.”
“It means something.” Kelly’s expression was thoughtful.
“Listen to me. I’ve been a freelance agent for ten years. My dad was a cop and so’s my older brother, and my other brother is an investigator. My friends are all cops and feds. I have seen with my own eyes that anybody is capable of anything.”
She made a placating gesture. “Okay, okay. Calm down.”
“I am calm,” he insisted, then softened his tone when a man in a white coat gave him a searching look.
“Then let’s talk about something else. You got Luc and Natalie back into the sports car pretty damn fast.”
“They did that themselves. I told Luc the cops were bound to look around the area. That was all it took.”
Kelly smiled, remembering what she’d asked the artist. “I don’t think he had permits for the installation.”
Deke shook his head. “Bye bye, Luc. Maybe there’s an outstanding warrant on him for making bad art.”
Kelly’s mind was elsewhere. “Natalie’s so nosy,” she mused. “I wasn’t expecting her to leave just like that.”
“Hey, I didn’t want her inside the car or bothering you. And I couldn’t be sure who’d get to the scene first. Dwight and Hux would have covered correctly, but I didn’t want a strange cop calling me Deke Bannon when he asked for my driver’s license. She would have picked up on that.”
Kelly sipped her coffee. “I wonder where she is now.”
“That’s the least of my worries. You and I are going to lie low for a couple of days. I’m putting in a request for an armored vehicle.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to roll through the streets in a tank.”
He grinned. “Don’t say no yet. What I’m talking about looks like an SUV, but bigger and tougher. Huge front grill, plated sides.”
“Right on trend in Atlanta,” she said wryly.
Kelly looked directly and confidently into the camera lens, about to deliver another installment of her ongoing story.
“In the news tonight, there are few clues in the death of Atlanta financier Gunther Bach. And it may not be a coincidence that the spectacular meltdown of the Bach financial empire began only days before his fatal plunge from his penthouse balcony. Millions disappeared. Investors weren’t insured. Did money lead to murder?”
She took a split-second pause to emphasize the question and take an invisible breath. The evening news production team had decided not to use the footage Kelly had shot at the scene with Gordon. Just her, full face.
“And exactly what happened in his last hours?” Kelly continued. “A source close to the investigation is about to reveal new details that may shed fresh light on the puzzling case, and WBRX is preparing an exclusive report.”
She turned to Dave Maples.
“Thank you, Kelly. Folks, be sure to tune in to WBRX for more on this developing story in the days to come. And now, in other news . . .”
They continued the six o’clock broadcast with practiced ease, covering a variety of stories with a few lines each. None came anywhere close to the Bach story for generating viewer interest. Monroe had bet the promo budget on that.
The source was Deke, of course. Who had promised her more insider info after she promised him to let him know her whereabouts at all times.
Deke watched the broadcast on a small TV positioned over a diner counter. The waitress, an older lady in a dark blue dress and white apron, seemed fascinated. She turned up the volume.
“I just love that Kelly Johns, don’t you?” she asked Deke.
He mumbled a yes from behind the cheeseburger he held in both hands.
“She’s smart and she’s good-looking,” the waitress said.
Deke nodded. He was just glad she’d recovered from the drive-by with no ill effects. For a little while she’d had him worried.
“Do you think that Bach fellow jumped like they said at first?”
“I don’t know, ma’am.”
A portrait photograph of Gunther Bach filled the screen. His bland smile and well-groomed silver hair were prominently featured.
“I can’t say I like that face. He looks to me like he cheated people,” the waitress said. “He has those strange eyes. Narrow and cold. That’s the kind of man who’d order a great big steak with everything and leave a dime for a tip.”
Deke suppressed a smile. The waitress had guessed correctly, but the idea of Gunther Bach eating at a diner was incongruous.
“You done?” she asked him. Without waiting for an answer, she took his plate. “Ready for pie and coffee?”
“Don’t mind if I do. Apple is fine.”
Kelly settled into her couch, leafing through a magazine without reading it. She didn’t want to think and she didn’t want to watch TV. When her phone chimed, she looked at the number and picked up. “Hey, Coral. What’s up?”
“Listen, Kelly, I found something amazing.” The bubbly junior reporter never seemed to lose her enthusiasm. But she, like everyone else at WBRX, still didn’t know about the drive-by. Deke wanted Kelly to keep it quiet.
>
“Are you still at the station?”
“Yeah, working late. So, okay, I made a friend at the State Department in DC, and he’s been helping me out with the foreign stuff,” Coral began.
Kelly smiled, remembering her own sources and other “friends” in government. Extremely useful for background on headline-making news. Never interested in on-screen credit.
“And?”
“He helped me trace the shell companies overseas, and we found a link to Gunther Bach.”
Kelly sat bolt upright. “Tell me more.”
“It’s really complicated and you sound tired, so this is the short version. Bach was a silent partner in the financing for that abandoned building. For a while he owned it outright.”
Kelly grabbed a pen and scribbled on the magazine cover. “Got it. Keep going.”
“I took about a million notes and now I’m editing them. I can give you a typed-up report tomorrow.”
Kelly put down the pen. “Coral, you are amazing. Thank you. I can’t wait to read it. And listen, one more thing. Have the security guard walk you to your car when you leave tonight. Be careful.”
She heard someone else in the background speak before Coral answered. “I hear you. And I will be. But right now, my, uh, friend is actually here with me.”
“Ohhh,” Kelly said. “Go, Coral. See you tomorrow.”
She leaned back into the cushions and thought hard. The connection didn’t surprise her. A hidden door had opened. A whole lot of other secrets would come tumbling out.
But they were still no closer to finding out who was trying to kill her. Deke and Hux had hit a dead end as far as the vehicle used in the drive-by. He had been blinded at the crucial moment by its headlights in the rearview mirror, unable to see who was at the wheel.
And he’d told her he wasn’t going to pump Natalie Conrad for information. As far as either of them knew, she was back in Dallas.
There were no clues on the street by the factory. No tire tracks, nothing that might have been thrown from the speeding vehicle. An evidence team had retrieved several bullets from Deke’s car and submitted their findings to a ballistics database for comparison.