by Mary Marks
I guided her out into the lobby. “What about the diary, Birdie? The key to Russell’s murder is in that book, and you’re the only one who can decipher it.”
She smiled and pulled the diary out of a pocket in her vintage blue dress with the yellow flowers. Inside the book was a folded piece of paper. “I was going to give this to you before I left. I haven’t had time to decode the entries. But you won’t have any problem. The substitution code is on that paper. All you need to do is plug in the right letters.”
Lucy was right. Birdie and Denver were on an express train, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
“What about Feather, Denver’s wife? Won’t she be unhappy when he brings you home?”
Birdie waved her hand dismissively. “Feather got bored and left him and the boy decades ago. Denver raised Ethan on his own from the time he was six.”
“What about Ethan? What will he think?”
Birdie’s face softened. “Ethan was killed in Afghanistan. Denver is all alone.”
Loneliness and grief. That was the hook that Denver was using to catch the tenderhearted Birdie and reel her in. That and the passionate love they once shared. Denver Watson had pushed all of her buttons. It was hopeless to try to make her stay with us.
“You’ll call if you change your mind or things don’t work out at the ranch?”
My old friend lightly squeezed my hand. “Be happy for me, dear. This is my last chance.”
I hugged her tightly. “You deserve so much happiness, Birdie. I promise I’ll try to stop worrying.”
We walked back into the Rose Room.
Birdie put her hand through Denver Watson’s arm and looked at Jazz, Lucy, Rainbow, and me. “I’ll be in touch.”
Then the two old lovers turned and walked out of the hotel.
After Birdie left, Rainbow lowered her voice and said, “You seem worried. Don’t be. Denver didn’t kill Russell, if that’s what’s bothering you.”
I bit my lip. “How can you be so sure?”
“That’s what we need to discuss.” She looked at her watch. “It’s four-thirty now. I want to freshen up and take a short nap. Let’s meet in the lobby for drinks at seven.”
“What about Lucy and Jazz?” I asked.
Rainbow shook her head once. “Best if you come alone for now.”
“Where are you staying?”
“Here. For some reason Birdie booked me into the J.K. Rowling room. I hope it’s not filled with stuffed owls.” She flashed a smile. “See you at seven.” Then she turned and grabbed the hand of the man in the ponytail and tie-dyed Nehru jacket and headed toward Hogwarts.
CHAPTER 27
I waited for everyone to leave the Rose Room before I approached Kay Lancet, still standing at the door. “You just let Birdie go off with Russell’s brother? Why didn’t you stop her?”
“On what grounds? I don’t have the authority to do that. Don’t worry. We still have eyes on her. I sent Tucker to surveil them.”
“You must be hungry,” I said. “You stood by the door all throughout the meal.”
“We ate in the car on the way over, plus I snuck quite a few of those tiny egg rolls and a couple petit fours.” She looked down and brushed chocolate crumbs from her chest.
I tried again. “Let me buy you a drink. I want to know what you discovered about Tanya’s kung fu instructor.”
We found a small bar next to the dining room on the other side of the lobby, ordered our drinks, and sat at a table for two. Lancet held a frosty mug of a local brew she ordered for the name alone—Vlad the Imp Aler. I sipped another cup of tea.
The agent swallowed a long draft of Vlad and wiped the foam from her upper lip with a cocktail napkin. “Hmm. Tastes almost like lemons. It’s different. I’ll say that much.”
She took another swig and watched me fidget impatiently with my cup. “Okay, I won’t keep you guessing any longer. He’s got a sheet. Nick Evans is his real name, but he’s used aliases before: Nick Henderson, Andy Freeman, and Rocky Freeman. He started in his teens boosting cars and graduated to fraud and grand larceny. Now he’s found a pathway to legal extortion. Tanya isn’t his first.”
“His first what?”
“Evans seduces vulnerable women and persuades them to leave their husbands. He takes them to Hawaii to ‘start a new life’ then contacts the husbands and offers to return them for a fee.”
“What if the husband doesn’t want her back?”
“Evans is smart. He only targets women with young children. Even if the husband doesn’t want the wife, he usually wants his kids. And he’ll send money to get them back. Strictly speaking, it’s not kidnapping and it’s not extortion.”
“So what can we do?”
“Already done,” said Lancet. “I asked one of the guys in the Honolulu office to go talk to Evans and Tanya together. He made sure she knew about the other six women he’d seduced with the same con.” Lancet chuckled. “I understand there was a lot of screaming and packing of suitcases.”
“So I can tell Lucy?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“What a relief. I don’t know how to thank you, Kay. You’ve helped the Mondello family avert disaster. You maybe even saved a marriage.”
She looked at me sideways and brought the mug to her lips again. “Don’t know about the marriage thing. These situations rarely end well. After all, the woman wasn’t kidnapped. There must be a reason she did a bunk.”
I smiled at her use of British slang. “You’re right. Once you stop being able to trust someone, a relationship can never be the same.”
She peered at me over the rim of the beer mug. “Are we talking about Arlo here?”
“He’s just one among many. Was he unfaithful to you, too?”
She laughed. “Only after I cheated on him first.”
I studied the woman sitting before me. Why had she strayed outside her marriage? Did her behavior give Beavers permission to become a cheater? I decided I didn’t want to know. After all, I wasn’t ever going to become involved with Arlo Beavers again.
“What about Li’l Ape Man?” I changed the subject. “Have you caught him yet?”
Lancet finished her beer. “The good news is you can stop worrying about him. The bad news is he’s not in custody. Immediately after he ran you off the road, he drove to Eugene, hired a private jet, and flew to Canada. From there he changed planes and flew to Stockholm. The Justice Department wants to extradite him for stalking and attempted murder, but we’re looking at a long process before he ever sees the inside of a U.S. courtroom.”
Since the FBI agent was so forthcoming with information, I continued to probe. “What do you know about Sandra Prescott, aka Rainbow?”
“What makes you think . . .”
“Come on, Kay. I know you’re too good a cop not to vet everyone.”
Lancet shrugged. “She’s on her way to becoming a billionaire.”
My mouth fell open. “Are we talking about the same woman? The former hippie who owns a couple of taco joints?”
“Yup. You want to know more? You’ll have to ask her yourself.” Lancet stood and stretched. “Thanks for the beer. You need to retrieve your dog from O’Neal so we can go back to the office.”
Arthur was lying on the front porch next to Agent O’Neal’s chair. When the shepherd saw me, he trotted over, wagging his tail. I thanked O’Neal for watching him, and walked back inside. The clock behind the reception desk read five o’clock, dinnertime for pooches. I asked for the key to my room and assured the lady in lace that Arthur was well trained and completely housebroken.
Blue and white striped wallpaper greeted us in the Faye Kellerman room. Two posters hung on the wall. One showed a Jerusalem skyline. The second pictured a dark-haired girl harvesting oranges on a kibbutz. A sky blue matelassé spread covered a dark, four-poster bed and a silver Hanukkah menorah sat on a shelf next to a dozen books in Kellerman’s mystery series. I guessed this was someone’s idea of how a room with a Jewish th
eme should look—blue and white like the Israeli flag. Shabbat would begin at sundown, and the hotel would never allow me to light candles. Too big a fire hazard. I’d just have to be satisfied with hanging out in a blue and white room with “Jewish” posters.
I fed Arthur a cup of kibble and a cube of cheese I’d saved from high tea. Then I sat in an overstuffed reading chair and dialed Lucy’s cell phone. I couldn’t wait to tell her the good news about the kung fu instructor.
“You asked Agent Lancet to investigate Nick Evans? So that’s what happened. I just got a text from Ray Junior saying he’s bringing Tanya and the kids back home. Thanks for doing that.”
“Thank Kay Lancet. She did all the work.”
Lucy’s voice sounded lighter already. “In spite of high tea this afternoon, I know I’ll be hungry again in a couple of hours. Jazz and I are going to check out the dining room later. Do you want to join us for a late supper?”
“Sorry, but you’ll have to do without me. Rainbow said she wanted to talk alone. Something about Russell.”
“Why can’t I come?” Lucy sounded hurt.
“I have no idea. After all, we only met a few hours ago. Don’t worry. I’ll fill you in afterward.”
“Well, call me as soon as you get back to your room.”
We ended our conversation, and I checked my watch. I had an hour and a half before my meeting with Rainbow downstairs. I’d use the time to check out the diary entries. I unfolded the paper with Birdie’s notes, grabbed a pencil, and began to decode the letters in the diary. I started with the first column, which consisted of all letters. Then I moved to the second column of mixed letters and numbers. The third column consisted of all numbers. When I had finished I studied what Russell had recorded.
Five Star Packaging December 17, 2011 – 500
Sunset Enterprises June 4, 2010 –June 10, 2011 500
Wong Technologies December 11, 2009 –December 3, 2010 500
Northwest Development Corp June 26, 2009 –June 11, 2010 500
Tracy Freight Lines December 12, 2008 –December 4, 2009 500
Landsdown Nurseries June 20, 2008 –June 19, 2009 500
Mississippi Solar June 15, 2007 –June 13, 2008 500
Freitas Salvage December 8, 2006 –December 14, 2007 500
Davis Plumbing June 16, 2006 –June 22, 2007 500
The first column listed names of various companies, and none of them seemed to be related to any of the others.
The dates in the second column showed a curious pattern. The entries were made in either June or December going back to 2006. All but the most recent item had two dates exactly a year apart. For example, the oldest entry, Davis Plumbing, recorded the period of June 16, 2006 to June 22, 2007. But Five Star Packaging, displayed only one date, December 17, 2011. I guessed it was because a year hadn’t yet passed.
The third column displayed the same three-digit number of 500 starting in 2006. Did that number represent a dollar amount from some kind of financial transaction? If so, it probably was a multiple of thousands, and 500 would be banker shorthand for $500,000.
Arthur walked over, rested his chin on my knee, and stared at me until he had my attention.
I reluctantly looked up from the diary. “What?”
The dog’s ears swiveled forward, and he tilted his head.
I knew that beseeching look. “Okay, I’ll get your leash.” Two minutes later I stood in the parking lot holding one end of his tether while the shepherd anointed a rhododendron bush.
When we returned to the room, my phone rang.
“I’m calling for my update.” Beavers.
“The funeral was . . . different. We all came back to the hotel for high tea. Birdie’s fine. Arthur’s fine. I’m still sore from the accident yesterday, but I’ll live.” I paused for effect. “And I had a nice conversation with your ex-wife.”
Silence.
“Arlo? Are you still there?”
“So Kay told you? What else did she say?”
“Nothing I didn’t already know—that you’re a hell of a good cop.”
He cleared his throat. “So have you thought about joining me on a trip to the Rez?”
“I haven’t changed my mind, Arlo. You and I together in that way would be a very bad idea. I’m happy just being your friend. Can’t we keep it that way? Casual?”
“I don’t know if I can do casual.”
I also had my doubts. Arlo Beavers was a serious and intense guy. Gray areas made him nervous. Simple friendship might be too hard for him to handle. “Well, I’d sure hate to lose you as a friend,” I said. “Not to mention Arthur.”
We said an awkward good-bye, and I looked at my watch. It read five minutes before seven. Time to discover why Rainbow felt responsible for Russell’s murder.
CHAPTER 28
Sandra Prescott, aka Rainbow, relaxed on one of the green velvet sofas in the hotel lobby. She’d changed into a gauzy white blouse and bright cotton maxi skirt. Next to her sat the man in the gray ponytail and the tie-dyed jacket, who’d accompanied her to the J.K. Rowling room after tea.
As soon as he saw me approaching, he kissed Rainbow on the mouth. “Catch you later, sweet cheeks.” He stood, gave me a brief smile, and left.
Rainbow also got up. “You’re right on time, Martha. I know we said drinks, but I’ve had a very busy afternoon and I’m ready to eat. How about talking over a nice, big steak? There’s a place just down the street. We can walk from here.” Without waiting for an answer, she turned and headed for the heavy oak doors. This was a woman who liked to be in charge.
The décor of McGinty’s Steak House felt as familiar as an old flannel shirt. The walls were paneled in dark wood and the booths upholstered in red leather. The food must be good because the place was packed on this Friday night. People waited shoulder to shoulder in the bar for a table to become available. Rainbow approached the maître d’, who took one look at her and seated us right away in a small booth near the window.
He presented a wine list. “It’s an honor to serve you, Miss Prescott.”
When he walked away, I asked, “You’ve been here before?”
She studied the wine list and smiled. “Everywhere I go, people try to get me to invest in their businesses. That maître d’ is actually the owner and a friend of Denver’s. When he heard I was going to be in town, he offered to comp my dinner tonight. I think he’s hoping I’ll buy this place.”
“Will you?”
“Take a look around. McGinty’s is too old-fashioned. I predict we’ll be served food with a lot of rich sauces, even on our steaks. This cuisine may be okay for a small town, but it’s not what I do. I’m merely here as a courtesy to Denver.”
“How did you get into the restaurant business in the first place?”
She put down the wine menu. “After I left Aquarius in 1980, I went back to California and opened a vegetarian restaurant in The City.”
Bay area natives referred to San Francisco as The City, never as ’Frisco. “Is that where you’re from?”
“Close enough. Palo Alto. Anyway, I took advantage of the growing demand for organic and fresh food. I called my place Lechuga. It’s Spanish for lettuce. It became so popular, I opened two more. Then I franchised my brand and eventually went global.”
Who hadn’t heard of the very popular Lechuga restaurants? “Oh my God. I love your food. I often have lunch at the one in Encino. You’re the CEO of all the Lechugas in the world?” Lancet was right. Sandra Prescott must be knocking on the door of the billionaire’s club.
She smiled. “Guilty. I’m the sole owner of Rainbow Enterprises. We not only have the restaurants, we own organic farms around the world and sell a product line of frozen meals and packaged foods. I try to keep all my investments green, like solar and wind farms. I feel an obligation to give back. My Rainbow Foundation makes microloans to women in developing countries.”
“And you’ve kept in touch with some of the people from Aquarius all these years?”
The maître d’/owner reappeared at our table, waiting for Rainbow to order the wine.
She scanned the menu and pointed with her finger. “Let’s begin with a bottle of this chardonnay and move on to the merlot with our dinner course.”
Two minutes later our wineglasses were filled. A basket of warm baguette slices and an array of assorted spreads lay on the table before us, including pesto sauce, mushroom pâté, an olive tapenade, and a pot of garlic butter.
“Did we order this?” I asked.
Rainbow laughed. “The chef is in charge of our menu. When I called earlier, the only thing I told him I wanted was steak. The rest of the meal will be as much of a surprise to me as it is to you.”
I spread a generous spoonful of tapenade on a slice of crusty baguette. “What makes you think you’re responsible for Russell’s murder?”
Rainbow chose the pâté. “Rainbow Enterprises is one of First Encino’s biggest customers. I like doing business with people I know and trust. At least I thought I could trust Russell. We were looking for a new packager to handle our frozen meals. I suggested Nancy ask Russell for a recommendation. A loan officer at the bank gave Nancy a referral. It seems a packager in the Bay Area had just received a huge expansion loan.”
Rainbow took a bite of bread and washed it down with a sip of chardonnay. “I’ll let Nancy give you the details, but it turned out the company doesn’t exist.”
“That’s really bizarre.”
“I thought Russell should know about it, so I called him immediately.”
“When was that?”
Rainbow closed her eyes in concentration. “About two weeks before he was killed. He apologized and said he’d look into it. A week went by, and I didn’t hear from him, so I called him again. He said he couldn’t talk about it.”
I helped myself to a fried cake made of flaky salmon, onions, and breadcrumbs, which reminded me of gefilte fish, only ten times better. One crisp bite told me I had to make this for my uncle Isaac. “I imagine Russell felt under a lot of pressure to fix the problem and keep you satisfied.”