Chasing Their Losses

by Lucia Sinn

  Janie’s voice rang out from upstairs. “Jeff, what’s going on down there?”

  “One of the rats got loose,” he shouted.

  “Ugh,” Janie yelled back. “Don’t you dare come back upstairs until you’ve caught it.”

  Jeff slammed the door shut and kicked Cara’s back so hard she bent over in pain.

  “We’re going to the garage,” he said.

  “Fine. But you may as well know, I’ve already called the police on my cell phone.”

  “I doubt you had the time to do that,” he said. “I know when you opened the closet door. I had it rigged with an alarm.” He clicked the door opener. “Now, get in the front seat.”

  Cara crawled inside Jeff’s small Volkswagen. As she leaned forward, she spotted the clipping from the ADA journal on the dashboard.

  Jeff hurried around to the driver’s seat, climbed in, and fired up the engine. Cara saw the outline of Janie’s body, backlit by the bedroom lights, come to the window then recede.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “You’ll soon find out,” he said. “But first, we have to find your car.”

  “I don’t understand any of this,” Cara said. “That clipping. You took it from my desk drawer today. Why?”

  “That clipping,” Jeff said, “was your death sentence.”

  Cara picked up the clipping and waved it under Jeff’s nose. “This was the real Dr. Rozgonyi, wasn’t it? What happened to her, and who is this woman who assumed her identity?”

  Jeff snatched the clipping from her hand and chuckled: a hollow, mirthless sound. “You’ll go to your grave wondering that. Oh, oh, stop. I see that junk heap you call a car. Really, you ought to have more class, dear. Most of your employees drive better cars.”

  “You killed Mrs. Cabella and Agnes Sullivan, didn’t you?” Cara said.

  “Of course. Just like I’m going to get rid of you.” As Jeff cut the engine and pulled up beside her car, his words echoed in Cara’s head. Unless she could think of something fast, she and Angie would be his next victims.

  She swallowed the dryness in her throat and looked straight ahead. “What next?”

  “We’re driving to your house. You’re going to die in your own bed, Cara. Isn’t that a comfort? And you won’t feel a thing.”

  The streetlights swam in Cara’s eyes. How could he possibly leave Angie in in that closet? “I can’t leave her back there,” she said.

  “You don’t have a choice. Now get moving, bitch.” Jeff slammed the back of his hand against her nose so hard she saw stars.

  Cara’s ears roared as she stumbled out of Jeff’s car and looked up and down the street for some evening traffic. Not a car on the road. In the distance, she heard a dog barking, but it was probably behind a fence and wouldn’t come bounding out to her rescue. Jeff opened her door on the passenger side.

  “Get your car keys out of your pocket. I know they’re in there, so don’t mess with me. Now, move over; you’ll be doing the driving.”

  Cara felt a nanosecond of comfort as she slid behind the wheel of the Pontiac she had bought from a used car lot on Sunday. She hadn’t minded it being ten years old as long as it had an airbag in the driver’s seat.

  Cara’s brain shifted into high gear when Jeff shut the door and told her to start the engine. Her heart thudded in her chest as she put the car in drive and pressed gently on the accelerator, inching the car forward. At that moment, she gripped the steering wheel, turned sharply to the right and gunned the motor, bracing herself for the ear splitting crash that followed as she headed straight for the trunk of a massive tree.

  Cara felt the pain across her chest as her airbag exploded, and Jeff’s head hit the windshield, knocking him out cold.

  Within seconds, porch lights went on up and down the block, and the street swarmed with neighbors. Soon, Cara heard the wail of sirens and saw the pulsating blue and red lights announcing the police.

  Janie pushed her way through a cluster of onlookers. “What’s going on here?” she yelled, standing with her hands on her hips in a confrontational stance about an inch from Cara.

  Cara backed away and looked at the EMT’s who were approaching. “There’s a little girl locked up in a closet in the Cabella’s basement. She’s in a diabetic coma and she’s near death.”

  “But what about him?” One EMT, a thick set woman, stood over Jeff and felt his pulse.

  “He’s not nearly in as bad shape as the child,” Cara said. No use telling her that Jeff was a worthless human being who didn’t deserve to live, anyway. That would come later.

  “Oh my God. Are you talking about Angie? What did you do to her?”Janie said.

  “Me? I found her in your basement, locked up in a closet with rats and left to die.”

  “My basement? “ Janie’s face contorted in a grimace of rage. “What were you doing down there?” She turned to the police who were busy taking a report. “Cara broke into my house,” she said. “Isn’t that against the law?”

  Cara shook Janie by the shoulders and screamed at her. “Are you trying to tell me you didn’t know what Jeff was doing to Angie?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Janie bent over Jeff’s body, nearly crumbling with grief. “What’s happened to him? Is he dead?”

  “No,” said the ambulance driver, “he’s very much alive. Just got a bad knock on the head. He’ll come around in a few minutes, probably.”

  Cara turned to the police. “He kidnapped me and tried to kill little Angie Cabella. You’ll want to talk to him when he wakes up.”

  “What about her?” the policeman nodded toward Janie.

  “I don’t know,” Cara said. “To be honest, I don’t think she knew what he was doing. But if you will call Detective McAuliffe, I’m sure he’ll want to hear what she has to say.”

  For the sake of Angie and Ana, Cara hoped she was right about Janie.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  SYCAMORE HOSPITAL

  CARA INSISTED ON going to the hospital in the ambulance with Angie. She knew the police wanted her to tell them what had happened, but she explained that until she was sure Angie was going to live, she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on their questions.

  Now, she understood what Jeff had been doing when she and John had seen him in the park. He’d dressed the little dark haired Ana in the same pink clothes that Angie was wearing the day she was kidnapped, which at first confused her substitute teacher into mistaking Ana for her cousin. By the time the school authorities realized Angie had disappeared, it was too late.

  A haggard Tony turned up in the emergency room about half an hour after they arrived, hardly recognizable with a three day beard, wrinkled tan polo shirt filled with coffee stains, blue jeans, and tennis shoes without socks.

  Cara was surprised to see him. She had been sure McAuliffe would have found enough to arrest him on suspicion of kidnapping Doug. But for Angie’s sake, she was glad he was here.

  “I thought it was all my fault when she disappeared,” he said. “I don’t understand why Jeff wanted to kill her.”

  “Why did you feel responsible?” Cara said.

  “Because of my gambling debts. I owed them money.”

  “Who did you owe?”

  “The people who killed Roseanne.”

  His words sliced across Cara’s heart like a razor blade. What was wrong with a man who would keep on gambling after his wife had been murdered because of his debts? The Tony Cabella she thought she knew had turned to ashes. But the loss could be so much greater for his daughter, who, if she lived, might grow up with a father in prison.

  Angie was sent to Intensive Care where the nurses hooked her up to IV’s and various monitors. Cara and Tony wandered down to the cafeteria to wait until they could be admitted back into Angie’s room. Tony chose tea instead of coffee, saying it was easier on his stomach. His hands were so shaky that he was unable to tear open the packet of Earl Gray.

  Cara took it from his hands, r
ipped the envelope open and carefully dropped the bag into his cup. “All right,” she said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Can I trust you?”

  “Trust me with what? To cover up what you’ve done? No, but I’m willing to listen.”

  Tony dunked his tea bag, avoiding her eyes. “I didn’t mean for Doug to die,” he said. “It wasn’t part of the plan. I figured the Kruegers would pay the ransom in a heartbeat, then we could send Doug back home. I told Tim he was to be kept safe. I should have known I couldn’t trust him. But I owed those guys so much money, and I had to take the chance. I was desperate. I figured with Doug back home, everyone would be so happy they wouldn’t worry about where I’d been.”

  “How long have you been addicted to gambling?”

  “It started when I was in high school. Poker with my buddies every Friday night. But the stakes weren’t high enough, so when I turned eighteen, I started buying lottery tickets. Remember how I would take you out for a steak dinner when I won?”

  Cara vaguely remembered the lottery tickets, but it had seemed a harmless pastime.

  “Every time I won a few bucks, it gave me a rush. But when I lost, I was miserable. I didn’t want anyone to know.”

  “But you didn’t need the money. Your family was rich.”

  “That may be. But remember, I had to work at the agency doing filing and office work every single weekend and all through the summer. I never told you--I was too ashamed--but they only paid me minimum wage. If you recall, I didn’t have a car of my own.”

  “Well, you drove your father’s car. What was the difference?”

  “The difference was that I had to beg to drive it. Gambling gave me a chance to make something on my own, something they wouldn’t know about.” Tony finished his tea and gazed off into the distance.

  “You can hardly blame your parents for what happened, Tony.”

  “Maybe not, but they were way too strict. I can’t begin to tell you how boring it was to be stuck in the office summer after summer when all my friends were out having fun.”

  “You and I had fun together. Wasn’t that exciting enough?”

  Tony looked at her with unfocused eyes. She knew he was not seeing her, but some vision in his head. “It helped a lot,” he said. “At least I was a winner at something. You were the prettiest girl in town. All my friends were hot for you.”

  Cara felt a wave of revulsion to think she’d merely been the prize in a competition. But he was too absorbed in his own thoughts and feelings to notice her reaction. “They used money to control me,” he continued, warming to the subject. “You want to know how bad my mother was? She recently cut Janie and me out of her will and left everything to the girls.”

  “So you and Janie knew about the new will?”

  “Of course. Janie found out about it right after she moved back home. That’s when I knew I couldn’t count on my mother to help me out of my gambling debts. I was frantic. I knew they’d killed Roseanne and they were threatening me. Don’t you see, I had no choice?”

  “Here’s the thing,” Cara said. “You might as well turn yourself in. You must know that it’s only a matter of time before you’re arrested. It will make it easier for everyone, including your daughter, if you co operate with the police. If you can help them find Doug’s killer, they may give you a lesser sentence.”

  “You’re right,” Tony said. “ Now, let’s head back up to ICU and see Angie.”

  Cara was surprised that he was so agreeable. Something wrong here. Was he really going to give up that easily? But for the sake of Angie, she had hope he meant it. That little girl was fighting for her life, and she needed to see her father sitting at her bedside if she happened to wake up. Tony was going to be put away for a long time. What difference did another hour or so make? They took the elevator to the second floor Intensive Care Unit.

  As they got off the elevator, one of Cara’s employees stepped in, pushing a patient tray cart that wobbled and rumbled. The porter pointed to one of the wheels.

  “Look,” he said to Cara. “It’s broken.”

  Cara looked down. “That can easily be fixed,” she said. “Just unload the dirty trays and take it down to Maintenance.”

  The young man nodded. “I’ll do that.”

  When Cara looked up again, Tony had taken advantage of her momentary distraction to disappear behind the cart and slip away. Head pounding with rage, Cara ran toward the lobby and down the stairs to see if she could catch up with him. But in her heart, she knew Tony was gone.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  DR. ROZGONYI’S HOUSE

  CARA DECIDED TO take matters into her own hands. Tony was not going to get away with walking out on his daughter. After calling McAuliffe on her cell phone and getting only his voice mail, she left a message that Tony had confessed, and she was pretty sure she knew where he was headed.

  Her Pontiac had a busted front fender, but miraculously, it was still drivable. In less than fifteen minutes, the weather did a one-eighty. The air at noon had been so hot and dry and full of pollen that Cara’s nose dripped. But when she got in her car, lightening flashed in the night sky. Before Cara had gone a mile, her windshield was covered with a curtain of rain.

  With the help of a mailing list that had been left in the doctors dining room, the address was easy to find with her GPS: a large gray stone McMansion at the end of an elite subdivision. Cara pulled into a smooth, gleaming black-topped driveway and slammed her car door. Immediately, she heard dogs barking.

  Shivering in a thin jacket, she walked through the rain to the front porch and rang the door bell. The barking escalated. Cara peered through leaded glass panels beside the door and saw Dr. Rozgonyi approaching. She opened the door just a crack.

  “What is it?” Rozgonyi called out. It was strange to see her barefoot in a gray sweatshirt and blue jeans.

  “I’m here to see you.”

  “Sorry, I’m busy.” Dr. Rozgonyi said.

  Cara stuck her foot in the door and gave it a hard shove, pushing it wide open.

  Rozgonyi was surrounded by her dogs, all of whom were anxious to find out more about Cara. A Doberman the size of a small pony charged at her, his rough tongue greedily licking the back of her hand where she’d cut herself on a drapery hook earlier this evening. The other two dogs—a Great Dane, and a mixed breed resembling a wolf, wasted no time digging their sharp paws into her back and arms.

  Rozgonyi peeled back her lips in a toothy grin. “Get back, you guys.” she said with a laugh, but made no move to pull them away.

  Cara stood still for a moment, waiting for the dogs to lose interest. She knew that if she appeared frightened, it would increase their excitement. When they had calmed down, she stepped into an empty hallway with a brick floor and large wrought iron chandelier. Rozgonyi glared as Cara continued into a carpeted living room with floor to ceiling windows, overlooking a well lit swimming pool. The room was nearly bare of furniture except for a black leather sofa facing the window, and a large flat screen TV on the opposite wall.

  “This is extremely rude of you,” Rozgonyi said. “Barging into my home, uninvited. You’ve got mud on your shoes, and you’re dripping all over my carpeting.”

  “He’s here, isn’t he?’

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  A sound of breakage came from the kitchen. Rozgonyi rushed to see what had happened, with Cara close on her heels.

  Tony stood behind a stainless steel work station. A china teapot lay on the floor, cracked to pieces. He looked at Cara and put down the steaming tea kettle he held in his hands.

  “Sorry,” Tony said to Dr. Rozgonyi. “My elbow hit the teapot.”

  “What are you doing here?” Cara said. “Why did you desert your daughter and leave the hospital without saying a word to me?”

  Tony stooped down and picked up the broken bits of china while Rozgonyi got a broom and a dustpan. “I thought you’d understand what happened with Doug,” he sai
d, not looking at her as he swept up the debris from the floor and dumped it into a trash container under the sink. “But when you started talking about turning myself in, I knew you were going to betray me.”

  “You’ve betrayed yourself and everyone who loves you, Tony. It’s not going to do any good, running like this. You can’t explain where you were the past few days. You have no alibi.”

  “Tony was right here, with me. I’m his alibi.” Rozgonyi said.

  Cara whirled around. “What is it between the two of you?”

  “We’re very good friends,” Rozgonyi said.

  “For how long? When did you meet?”

  Rozgonyi folded her arms across her chest and stepped in front of Cara. “This interrogation is entirely uncalled for, but for your information, we met in California. Jeff King introduced us when he was my student.”

  Cara backed away from Rozgonyi’s sour breath. “Do college professors and their students typically pal around together?”

  “Jeff wasn’t an ordinary student. He was very talented, and older, too.”

  “I don’t think he was your student at all. “ Cara said.

  “He most certainly was.”

  “No, he was Dr. Rozgonyi’s student.”

  Rozgonyi’s voice faltered. “What are you talking about? I’m Dr. Rozgonyi.”

  “Are you? I don’t think so. I don’t know who you are, but you aren’t her.”

  “What? You want to see my birth certificate?” Rozgonyi’s nostrils flared. “This is absurd, and you’re making a fool of yourself with these wild accusations. I intend to report you to administration immediately.” Rozgonyi put the flat of her hand against Cara’s chest and pushed hard. “Now get out of my house.”

  Cara stumbled backward and turned to look at Tony “I’m not leaving unless you come with me. For once, think about someone other than yourself. Why do you think I didn’t call the police the minute you told me you’d been involved with Doug’s kidnapping? Because I knew Angie needed to see you when she woke up.”