Mr. And Miss Anonymous

by Fern Michaels

  “Why wait for darkness, Pete? Let’s be brazen and walk right up to the door and knock. I see no reason to let more hours go by when we’re so close to finding him.”

  The phone call made, Zolly at the wheel, the trio, along with Winston, set off for the Castle Gate Apartments. By the time Zolly parked the car, Marty Bronson was on the phone.

  “You want to write this down or will you remember it, boss?”

  “Just give it to me now, Marty, then text message it, okay?”

  “You got it. Charlie Garrison has a few navy buddies. I have two addresses. He owns the Hotdog Haven and works for ten bucks an hour. That’s all he takes out of the business. There’s a rift between him and his family. Yeah, I know I gave you some of this before. He has four employees, and here are their addresses. My gut tells me to go with Miss Dorothy since she seems to be of an age with Charlie. Maybe they’re an item. Women are sympathetic to kids and old men. Start with her. I did a MapQuest check and she lives about six blocks from the Castle Gate Apartments. She’s a widow and works the day shift at the Hotdog Haven three days a week and one day every other weekend. She’s ex-army, so watch it, or she might wipe up the floor with you. She lives at 982 Sawmill Road. If there’s anything else you need me for, just call.”

  “Here’s the plan, Zolly, go around back and pick the lock. Lily, Winston, and I will go right to the front door that you will open when we ring the bell. Make it quick, Zolly.”

  Eight minutes later they were in Charlie Garrison’s kitchen.

  Zolly was the one who found the packaging from the TracFone in the trash basket by the back door. “Hey, boss, here’s the phone number of Josh’s phone!”

  Excitement rendered Lily momentarily speechless. “Are you going to call the number, Pete?”

  “Yeah, but not until we get to 982 Sawmill Road. Zolly will be at the back door, you, me, and Winston will be at the front. He’s not going to get away from us this time.”

  Chapter 27

  Tessie’s cell phone chirped as she was walking to the lot where she’d parked her car. She flipped it open, mumbled a greeting as she fished around inside her carryall for her keys. She stopped what she was doing when she heard Little Slick’s voice.

  “I’m buying dinner. Fifteen minutes. Be on time.”

  Tessie blinked. Two calls in one day. Her stomach started to churn at what she tried to imagine this invitation was all about. Something not good, that was for sure. When Little Slick offered to buy dinner, it meant trouble. Big trouble. Secretly, she thought he probably had the first dime he ever earned socked away under his mattress. But she loved the lanky hacker even though he was tighter than a duck’s ass.

  Tessie hit the highway, then took a turnoff and made the rest of the journey using side streets and alleys until she entered the smelly parking lot of the Desperado Lounge, a place that featured gyrating pole dancers and other assorted live entertainment. Not that she or Little Slick ever paid attention to the performers. They loved the food. At least Slick did. She did her best to take notes on the sly on how to conquer the pole. One of these days…

  Slick was waiting for her in the back of the lounge, a bottle of Heineken in front of him. One, with the cap still on, was waiting for her. She slid into the booth but remained quiet as she twisted off the cap and took a healthy swig of the beer.

  “Hudson Preston is dead! They just found his body. You were the last person to see him other than his security detail. The feebies want to talk to you.”

  Tessie heard the words as though they were coming from some far-off place. She set down the green bottle very carefully in the exact same wet circle that she had picked it up from. She licked at her lips. “Did he just die, or did someone help him out?”

  “Dead is dead. Yeah, someone pumped a few into him. Probably used a silencer because there have been no reports that anyone saw or heard anything on the street. He was left in a Honda Odyssey on the side of the road. A cop on patrol had gone over to check it out because it was in a no-parking zone. Lots of blood. I bet it was the same guy who shot up the schoolkids. I tell you this only because if it is going to get swept under the rug again, you need to present yourself front and center and run with it. It’s your call, Tessie. If it doesn’t sit right with you, have that dude from PAK Industries stick his neck out. Ah, here’s our food.”

  “How can you even think about food at a time like this?” Tessie grumbled as she tried to imagine the ramifications of Senator Preston’s death. She looked around at the biker clientele. Lots of black leather and way too many silver spikes. There wasn’t much in the way of décor aside from the posters of every Harley-Davidson ever manufactured that wallpapered the long, narrow room. The Desperado was a beer joint, pure and simple. It was whispered, but not too loudly, that there were other things that went down there from time to time, but no one seemed to care. The owner, according to Little Slick, turned a nice six-figure profit quarterly. “Quarterly” being the key word.

  “I can think about food because I haven’t eaten since nine thirty this morning. What’s your next move?” Slick asked as he tried to bite into the eight-inch hamburger that drizzled the table with all kinds of stuff that was stuck between the meat patties.

  “I need to think. You can’t just spring something like this on me and expect me to come up with…whatever the hell it is you expect me to come up with. I rattled him this morning, I do know that. Help me out here. The feebs can’t brush this under the rug; the guy was a goddamn United States senator. That’s news. And if he was really going to throw his hat into the ring, that’s even bigger news.”

  Little Slick swiped at his chin with a wad of paper napkins. “Wrong place at the wrong time, random shooting. Where does it say they’re going to tie him into the school shooting? No one is going to advertise that little tidbit. Except maybe you,” he said slyly. “Like I said, this might be a good time to powwow with your friend Kelly. Always remember you have freedom of the press on your side. Use it. You can beat the feebs. Or is that boss of yours a pansy and afraid to take on…you know who?”

  Tessie propped her elbows on the scarred table. “Damn, I’ve never heard you talk so much in your whole life. This sucks, Slick.”

  “Yeah, it does.” Slick held up his beer bottle to signal for a refill. In the blink of an eye two bottles appeared on the table. “If you aren’t going to eat that burger, push it over here. You on a diet or something, Tessie?”

  “Or something,” Tessie responded, her eyes on the bikini-clad woman slithering up and down the pole in the middle of the polished bar. Someday she was going to be able to do that.

  Tessie hated to ask for advice, but she did it anyway. “Slick, what do you think I should do? I have the FBI chief’s home phone number. My boss told me some very important people came to see him and all the other paper owners and told them to sit on the shootings. They agreed temporarily. He said I could run with it, but had to check in with him. You want to listen to our conversation, or should I take it outside?”

  “The less I know, the less I can testify to. Go for it, Tessie. I’ll watch your back.”

  Tessie slid out of the booth. She was almost to the bar area when she turned around and walked back to Little Slick. She bent down and kissed his cheek. “Thanks,” she whispered.

  Tessie made one last stop at the bar and looked up at the slithering pole dancer. “Honey, how long did it take you to learn to do that?”

  “Two days.”

  As she exited the bar, cell phone in hand, Tessie mumbled, “My ass, two days.” She punched in her boss’s number.

  “Harry, Tessie. Hudson Preston was found shot to death about an hour ago. So far it’s been kept quiet. I got the scoop. If you give me the go-ahead, I’m going to call the Bureau chief since I have his home phone number. Harry, you still there?”

  “You got two sources?” Harry asked in a strangled voice.

  “I have one source, and I’ll die before I give him up. He’s so golden he could light the
universe. Well?”

  “You got it. Feed it to me as you get it, and it will be the headline for the morning paper. Don’t make me regret this, Tessie.”

  “I want a raise,” Tessie said because she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “That, too,” Harry said.

  Tessie’s next call was to the FBI’s chief, Ansel Montgomery, who, from the way he sounded, was having dinner.

  “Mr. Montgomery, this is Tess Dancer from the Chronicle. I’m sorry to be calling you during the dinner hour, but I was just told Senator Hudson Preston was found shot and killed a little while ago. I was wondering if you’d care to have your office comment on the shooting. We’re going to go with it in the morning. I have a source that tells me the ballistics will match those of the shooting at the California Academy of Higher Learning.” Tessie licked at her lips, which were so dry she thought the skin would peel off as she waited for the chief’s response. When there was none she asked in awe, “You didn’t know, did you? Okay, I can run with that. Nice talking to you, Mr. Montgomery.”

  Tessie clicked the phone shut and let her breath out in a long swoosh of air.

  Her next call was to Pete Kelly. “C’mon, c’mon, pick up, Pete.”

  “Tessie, what’s up?”

  “Where are you, Pete?”

  “Well…”

  Tessie gritted her teeth. “Pete, where the hell are you? Senator Hudson Preston was found shot and killed over an hour ago and left on the side of the road. According to my source, I was the last one to see him other than his security detail. I’d told him I knew he was one of the principal owners of the sperm bank, the fertility clinic, and the academy. Now he’s dead. It’s going to hit the papers in the morning. What that means to you is I got the scoop, and the shit is going to hit the fan. I have to run with this. Now, where the hell are you?”

  Pete told her. “We’re almost there.”

  “Wait for me, Pete. Promise.”

  “Yeah, okay. We don’t have a tail if that’s what you’re worried about. Zolly has eyes in the back of his head.”

  “Yeah, well, I think it’s safe to assume that Senator Preston thought he didn’t have a tail, too. I’m not worried about you, Pete. I’m worried about the boy. I should be there in twenty minutes or so.”

  The second Tessie heard the siren, she knew what was going to go down. The cell phone still in her hand, she dialed Pete’s number again. The moment she heard his voice, she said, “The cops are about to pull me over. I’ll keep the line open so you can hear what’s going on. Have Lily or Zolly call my boss and tell him what’s happening. Then I want you to call another number and tell the person who answers the same thing. Just identify yourself and tell him I told you to call him. I don’t know where they’re going to take me. Local or Feds? Who knows? I called the Bureau chief, and he didn’t even know about Preston so I’m thinking the locals are picking me up for a handover. Okay, I’m at a full stop now.” Tessie slipped the open-line cell phone into the pocket of her jacket and waited for the tap on her window.

  When it came, she rolled down the window halfway. She held out her press card, her insurance card, and her driver’s license. “I wasn’t speeding.”

  “Yes, you were speeding, ten miles over the limit.”

  “Yeah, and my mother’s name is Madonna. I was not speeding, Officer. As a matter of fact I was under the limit because I am more or less lost at the moment.”

  “Tell it to the judge. Get out and lock up your car.”

  Tessie’s heart kicked up a beat. “Why? Just give me the ticket, and I’ll work it out in court. What’s your name? And I want to see your badge number before I get out of this car.”

  Tessie could see the indecision on the officer’s face. “Well? Let’s see it. How do I know you’re not one of those guys who dress like a cop and prey on women at night? That’s not even an official police car. You just have the light on the top. I’m rolling up my window now, and I’m not getting out of this car. In fact, I’m going to drive off right now, Officer, and I’m going to drive to the nearest police station, so stay behind me. I’m going to call 911 and report this.” Tessie reached into her pocket for her cell phone and pretended to dial 911. She talked to Pete at breakneck speed, giving her approximate location, a description of the officer, and the type of car he was driving.

  The moment there was a break in the evening traffic, Tessie pealed out, tires squealing. She looked into the rearview mirror to see the cop standing with his gun drawn. He wasn’t following her. Why should he? All he had to do was call ahead to one of his buddies, and she’d get stopped again down the road. Her brain racing, she turned off the road, drove over a few lawns, and parked the car at a curb, right in front of a fire hydrant. She got out of the car and ran as fast as she could as she babbled into the phone to Pete on the other end. “I don’t know where the hell I am. Can you send Zolly to pick me up?”

  “Well, yeah, Tessie, as soon as you give me a clue as to where you are. Damn, you are one hell of a ballsy lady. Zolly is going to be impressed. Scratch that, he is impressed. We have a GPS tracker in the car. Give me a street, and he’ll find you. I guess I don’t have to tell you to stay out of sight. I made your calls, by the way. Your boss was pissed to the teeth, said he was on it. Your source, or your snitch, whoever he is, just grunted and broke the connection. So where are you?”

  “I’m in a residential neighborhood. I left my car a couple of streets back. I bet that cop stuck something on my bumper to track me. I can hear sirens. This street is”—Tessie craned her neck to see the sign at the end of the street— “Oliver Terrace. It looks like Martina Place is the cross street. I can barely see the sign. I’ll be waiting for you. Tell Zolly to hurry, Pete. I can see flashing blue lights already,” Tessie said as she wiggled and squirmed her way into a dense privet hedge. She dropped to her knees and hoped to God she’d be able to get back up.

  “We’re on our way, Tessie.”

  The flashing lights were coming down the street at a bare crawl. Tessie crossed her fingers as she leaned as far back behind the privet as she could. She was so busy thanking God for the hedge, for Pete and Zolly, for the dark night, and the fact that no stray dogs were about when she saw a second car with flashing lights crawling down the street. Suddenly front lights came on up and down the street, doors started to open, and somewhere a dog was barking. Tessie’s heart started to flutter. “Come on, Pete, hurry up. I’m a sitting duck here,” she muttered under her breath.

  The minutes crawled by so slowly Tessie thought she was going to lose her mind. The moment she saw a pair of headlights turn onto Oliver Terrace, Tessie punched in Pete’s number and waited. “Are you on the street yet?”

  “We just turned the corner. Where are you?”

  “Three car lengths from your car. I can see your headlights. Slow down, I have to dig myself out of this privet hedge. Pull into the driveway, and by the time you do that, I can bolt for the car. Have the door open.” Tessie scrambled from the privet just as a dog raced down the road. Winston leaped from the car to hold him at bay as Tessie made a mad scramble for the backseat. Pete yanked and pulled her into the car, which was backing out of the driveway before he could close the door. Lily opened the other side, and Winston jumped in.

  Tessie was shaking from head to toe. Lily wrapped her arms around the stout woman’s shoulders. “You’re safe, Tessie. Damn, that was close.”

  Tessie was still shaking when she asked about her boss. “What’d he say?”

  “Just that he was on it,” Pete said. “Your snitch just grunted. What now, Tessie?”

  Tessie already had her cell phone open and was calling her boss. “I’m okay, Harry. Tell me you haven’t had a change of heart. Tell me you’re going to run with the senator’s death by gunshot.”

  “I’m going with it. Anything else you want to tell me?”

  “Wake up Douglas Preston, the senator’s father, Harry. He lives in that mausoleum on Wild Orchid Drive. He’s a recl
use these days, and there doesn’t seem to be a great deal of closeness between father and son. Tell him you know everything. See what he gives up. That should keep you busy until my next call. Don’t worry, I’ll feed it in to the desk as I go along. I think we might have found the boy. If we’re successful where he’s concerned, we’re going to bring him to the paper. He’s the key to everything, Harry. Alert everyone, okay? Oh, one other thing, call Montgomery, the Bureau chief, and tell him you’re running the story and this might be a good time for him to wash the stink off his hands. This is Secret Agent Tess Dancer signing off for now,” Tessie said in a jittery voice.

  In the front seat, Zolly guffawed.

  “Okay, big man,” Tessie said to Zolly in the same jittery voice, “let’s go find this man’s kid so we can all go home and go to sleep.”

  Chapter 28

  Diesel Morgan eyed the man in the backseat, who was shackled to the door handle. One more stop to make, then he would step into Hudson Preston’s shoes. Just one more stop. He met the man’s gaze in the rearview mirror and smiled. He laughed when he saw the way the man shivered. “I certainly hope you haven’t lied to me about anything.”

  The man in the backseat said nothing. What was the point?

  “Okay, we’re here,” Morgan said, pulling up under the portico of the Preston family mansion on Wild Orchid Drive. “I won’t be long,” Morgan said as he opened the car door.

  Morgan marched to the side door and rang the bell. A maid, who looked to be an old family retainer, opened the door and peered up at the clean-cut-looking man standing in front of her. “Hudson asked me to drop something off for his father. I don’t have much time, so if you show me the way, I can be in and out in a few minutes.”

  “Eh?” the old woman asked as she cupped her ear to hear better. “Mr. Preston,” Morgan shouted. “Hudson sent me,” he said, waving a brown envelope under her nose. “Take me to him.” When the woman still didn’t seem to understand, Morgan brushed past her, taking a moment to pat her on the back in a friendly way.