by Mary Kennedy
“This woman,” I began. “Is it . . . is it someone I know?”
“You do know her. At least you’ve met her. The prints belong to Miriam Dobosh.”
“Miriam Dobosh? I can’t believe it,” I blurted out. And then I remembered sitting at the Delano with her and noticing those powerful hands resting on the table. She was a strong woman under that frumpy suit. A powerful woman. “Why would she do it?”
“Why do you think?”
“She must have killed Sanjay,” I said doubtfully. “Or somehow she’s involved in his death. But I was sure she didn’t have anything to do with it. At least—”
“At least what?”
“Nothing.” I didn’t want to tell him about the Delano and her offer to help solve the crime. Then I’d have to admit to having done some Nancy Drew-type sleuthing. Exactly the kind of thing he’d ordered me not to do. “I just can’t believe it. What would her motive be?”
“That’s what we need to find out.”
“She might be protecting someone else, the real killer, I guess.”
“Any idea who that might be?”
“No.” I felt like I was grasping at straws. “You’re sure you can place her in my apartment? Not just outside?”
“We have a couple of footprints we lifted from the kitchen floor. If we put those with the fingerprints on the outside handrail, we’ve got a strong case. She certainly has some explaining to do.”
“That she does.”
I clicked the phone shut and sat for a few moments thinking. Miriam Dobosh had been inside my apartment looking for something, but what? I needed to move her up a few notches on my suspect list. This changed everything.
I had just finished showering and was going to call Vera Mae to go over the day’s show when someone knocked at the door. Was it Miriam Dobosh? I peered out the peephole, feeling a little silly, and saw a young girl, probably still in her teens, wearing a maid’s uniform. I relaxed and pulled the door open.
“Hola,” she said shyly. Her name tag said NINA and she worked at the Seabreeze.
“Hola,” I stood back. “Please come in.”
“I am Francesca’s niece, Nina.” She looked nervous and was twisting her hands together in front of her. “Francesca told me that Lark is accused of killing Sanjay. I have something you need to see.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a fortune cookie.
“Where did you get this?” I turned it over in my hand.
“Sanjay. He gave it to me. That night he was killed.”
“He gave it to you?” I motioned her to the couch, and she sat down. “Did it come as part of a take-out dinner?”
“Sí. I saw it myself. The dinner was on the bed. It was in one of those—how do you say—” She frowned, her eyebrows knitted together.
“A container? Like this?” I jumped up and grabbed the Golden Palace container off the kitchen counter and showed it to her.
“Sí, sí!” Nina nodded her head vigorously. “That’s it. That’s what I saw in his room.” She tapped the red logo in the center. “I remember this very well.”
“How did Sanjay happen to give it to you?”
Nina shook her head in disgust. “He called down to the front desk. He wanted more towels. I brought them in, and when I arranged them on the towel rack, he tried to pinch me. You know, here. On the butt.” She made a face. “He was a disgusting old man.”
“And what happened then?”
“I got out of there as fast as I could. He caught up with me at the door and said take this cookie for good luck.”
“So you took it?”
Nina’s mouth twisted. “I put it in my pocket and forgot about it. I was too busy getting out of there as fast as I could.”
“Nina, I’m so glad you told me this.” I took both her hands in mine.
“I had to,” she said shyly. “I know Lark would never hurt anyone. I should have said something before. I didn’t think of the importance.”
“That’s okay, Nina. Now the police will know what to do. With your testimony, we can prove that there really was a sushi dinner in Sanjay’s room that night. It’s a good thing you brought this—better late than never.”
“Más vale tarde que nunca.”She grinned. “We say the same thing in Spanish.”
She was about to leave when suddenly we heard a voice that turned my blood to ice.
Chapter 30
“What a touching moment. Don’t let me interrupt.”
A chill passed through me when I heard the low voice, the sarcastic laugh. It was one of those moments when you’re pretty sure you’re dreaming, but you don’t want to count on it.
I whirled around to the sliding glass door that opened onto the balcony. It was wide-open. Travis Carter was framed in the doorway, and we locked eyes for a long moment. I stood frozen to the spot, raw terror clawing its way up my throat. My mind scrambled to make sense of what I was seeing.
Then he walked into the living area and pointed a gun at Nina’s chest.
“Don’t make a sound,” he said. He moved closer and stared at us. He had beads of sweat popping up on his forehead, and I could feel the tension rolling off him.
“Travis, you’re making a terrible mistake.” Nina was trembling beside me, making a little choking sound in her throat. I rested my hand lightly on her arm.
Travis put a finger to his lips in an eerie gesture. His eyes were glazed, from either psychosis or drugs, and I felt a stab of terror go through me. How could I ever reason with someone like this? He appeared to be deranged. Completely unhinged.
Nina’s hand flew to her mouth, and she gulped back a sob. She rattled off a barrage of Spanish, and I couldn’t understand a word except “Dios mío, Dios mío,” which she repeated over and over.
I felt like sobbing myself. If ever there was a time for divine intervention, this was it. I flattened myself against the wall as Travis came closer, the gun still pointed at Nina. “Tell Chiquita Banana here to shut up. Or I’ll silence her myself.”
“Nina, it’s okay,” I said softly, putting my arm around her. “Take deep breaths. You’re going to be fine.” She was shaking with sobs and buried her face in my shoulder. I was still reeling from shock and trying to unscramble my thoughts. So it had been Travis Carter all along? Mom had been suspicious of him that day we’d met up with him at Sanjay, Ltd., but I’d never come up with a motive. What did he have to gain from Sanjay’s death?
“Let her go, Travis,” I said coldly. “It’s obvious I’m the one you’re after. She doesn’t know anything.”
“Really? Then what’s this?” He spied the fortune cookie on the counter and waved it in my face. “I saw you out at the Dumpster, Maggie. Snooping around, sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. And I followed you to the Golden Palace last night. You just don’t learn, do you? Funny, I thought that’s what psychology was all about. Helping people learn from experience. But then, you’re not much of a psychologist, are you? More of a talk show jock. What are your ratings like? I bet they can’t be very good.” He gave a wild, maniacal laugh. “I knew it wouldn’t take long before you connected the dots.”
I bit my lip, trying to slow my racing pulse. I was supposed to be a professional, calm and in control, but my heart was slamming against my rib cage like a battering ram. I started to edge slowly toward the door, but Travis was too quick for me.
“Sit down,” he ordered. “Both of you, on the sofa.” He looked around the room and then backed up slowly and closed the sliding glass door. He never took his eyes off us.
I glanced at my cell phone, which was tucked away in my purse hanging over the back of the chair. Was there any way I could reach it? Did I dare risk it?
“Travis, don’t make a bad situation worse. We can talk about this, straighten it out.”
Travis gave a short bark of laughter. “Straighten it out? Don’t try your psychobabble on me, Maggie. I’m not some yahoo caller on your radio show. So don’t think you can try any shrink games on me. It’s too
late for that. I wouldn’t do well in prison, not well at all.” He gave another crazy laugh. “And orange really isn’t my color.”
Nina was whimpering beside me, and Travis shot her an annoyed look. “It’s too bad about the girl, but collateral damage, you know. Innocent people get hurt; that’s all part of the game.”
“Why hurt her? Why hurt either one of us?”
“You really don’t know? You must be more stupid than I thought.” He paced a little, crossing to the glass door and peering out. There was a faint scratching noise coming from the bedroom. I was glad that Pugsley was closed safely out of sight. Travis was so absorbed in his own shattered mind, he didn’t seem to hear it.
“Because somehow you figured out what really happened that night. You brought all this on yourself. Ironic, isn’t it?”
“You killed Sanjay.” I made it a statement, not a question.
“Score one for the shrink.” He pulled over a kitchen chair and sat down a few feet away from us. He was holding the gun with two hands; it was still pointed directly at us. He waved it back and forth slightly from side to side as if he was drawing a bead, hoping to win a teddy bear in a carnival game.
“Why?”
“Because he was a thief. He robbed me. Didn’t you know that? I thought you would have figured that out by now.”
A harsh, grating laugh. “A book deal. My ticket out of his stinking organization. Money, fame, everything I’ve spent my whole life working for. He took it all away. You know what they say: Once a con man, always a con man. I knew what he was when I started working for him, but I didn’t think he’d ever turn on me. There’s loyalty among thieves, you know.” His face twisted in a sneer. “Or at least there’s supposed to be. I guess I underestimated him. “
“You had a book deal and Sanjay took it away from you?” So Ray Hicks had been telling the truth after all. I had no idea what he was planning for us, but it couldn’t be good.
“I would have had a book deal. A big deal. I stupidly showed Sanjay a book I’ve been working on for years. He loved it and said he’d give it to his agent. Then he made some suggestions, a few things that should be added here and there to pump it up, he said. I figured he knew more than I did about marketing and the book business, so I went along with it.”
“I understand.” I was beginning to see where this was headed.
“Yeah, dumb on my part, I know. Big mistake. He made more and more suggestions, and then suddenly the book was taking off in a different direction. Sanjay’s ideas were okay, but it wasn’t the book I envisioned. And by now there was loads of evidence that Sanjay’s philosophy was all over it. If the case went to a jury, I knew they’d side with Sanjay. He has a huge following. People trust him.”
Travis’s voice had a flat, “blunted affect” as the shrinks say. He was telling the story in a dull monotone, without any strong emotion, and his face was expressionless, nearly blank.
“What happened then?” I figured the longer I kept him talking, the better chance I had of coming up with a plan. But what?
“Sanjay was a genius. I have to hand it to him. He can be very persuasive, you know.”
“I know.” I thought of Lenore Cooper. She’d helped him jump-start his career, and as soon as it was going full throttle, he’d dumped her. His star had risen and hers had fallen.
“Sanjay took his book to his agent and told him this was something he’d been working on for the past few months. He told him he hadn’t shown it to him before because he wasn’t really sure he could pull it off. He wanted his agent to have the finished product, not just a partial manuscript.”
“What was he going to do about you? He must have known you’d object.”
“Yeah, but who’d believe me? He was going to fire me and then paint me as some disgruntled employee. Someone bitter about his success who was just out to make money on a frivolous lawsuit.” He paused, looking idly at the barrel of the gun. “You know what they say: If a lawyer says you have a case, you have a case.”
I raised my eyebrows. I could see that Sanjay might have had a good chance of getting away with this. If Travis hadn’t shown the manuscript to anyone, and Sanjay had made loads of notes and kept a record of them, who could say who the book really belonged to?
I glanced at Nina, who looked almost catatonic. Her eyes were dull, and she was staring fixedly at the carpet. “What happens now?” I said softly. “To us.”
Travis grinned, an ugly rictus spreading across his face. “Oh, didn’t you know? You’re going to have some new carpet delivered today.” He glanced down at the Danish throw rugs on the polished wood floors. “These are getting sort of threadbare, don’t you think?” He glanced at his watch. “So in less than five minutes, a delivery guy is going to show up with a big van. He’s going to carry the new rugs inside . . . and take the old ones out.” He paused. “Do you get the picture, Maggie?”
I swallowed hard. “I think I do.” I stole another quick look at Nina, but she seemed to be in a world of her own. I don’t think she even heard our conversation. “This delivery guy is a friend of yours.”
“Very good. And what do you think will be different about the rugs when he takes them back out to the van?”
I shook my head. I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. Not in front of Nina.
“Think, Maggie. What will be different?” He cupped his chin in his hand like that statue The Thinker. Then he snapped his fingers. “Oh, I know. They’ll be heavier.” He let go a burst of harsh laughter that made Nina look up in alarm. “And why will they be heavier? Because you and Nina will be wrapped up in them.”
“You’re sick. You need help,” I told him.
Travis laughed, pleased with his performance. “You’ll be cozy as two bugs in a rug, get it?” His laughter rang through the condo. “I hope you’re not claustrophobic. It will be pretty cramped in there. Except—oh, wait, I forgot. You won’t mind at all because you’ll be dead.”
“People will hear the gunshots,” I said quickly. “These walls are thin.”
“That’s why I’ll use a pillow. One of those nice sofa pillows with the pug on it. It looks like someone embroidered a picture of your dog. How touching.”
“Yes, that’s Pugsley,” I said.
And then two things happened at once.
The front door opened and Mom and Lark walked in, loaded with shopping bags.
“Dear, what is that van doing parked outside? I asked the young man if he needed directions and he seemed very edgy.” She suddenly spied Travis and said, “Good heavens, is that a gun? Please tell me it’s a fake.” She gave a nervous laugh, her eyes bulging a little as though she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. I’m not even sure she recognized Travis. I think all she saw was the gun.
And the second thing? Pugsley, always excited by visitors, somehow managed to escape from the bedroom. He exploded through the door and headed straight toward Travis, an idiotic doggy grin on his face. Whoever says dogs are good judges of character has never met Pugsley.
“What the—,” Travis began, throwing his hands up to shield himself from Pugsley’s slobbering kisses. He couldn’t decide whether he should keep the gun trained on me, Nina, or the new arrivals. With Pugsley in his lap yelping with joy, Travis lost control of the situation.
His arm jerked up and the gun went off, blasting a football-size hole in the ceiling. All of us watched, stunned, as flakes of plasterboard drifted down on us like snowflakes. Pugsley gave a startled yelp and hid under a chair. Lark was the only one who was smart enough and fast enough to seize the moment. While the rest of us were staring blankly at the ceiling, she picked up a giant copper meditation gong and walloped Travis over the head with it.
The impact made a comical sound, and for an insane moment, I expected a butler to appear and say, “Dinner is served, madam.”
For a long moment, Travis sat frozen in his chair, staring at Lark with wide, Homer Simpson eyes. And then the gun dropped out of his hand, his eyes rolled
back in his head, and he went down for the count.
“Ohmigod, call 911!” I finally came to life and scrambled for my cell, but Lark was way ahead of me, already punching in the numbers on the wall phone. “Hurry,” I pleaded. “He may suddenly come to.”
“Not to worry,” Mom said, springing to life. She yanked the cord off the living room drapes and bent over Travis, locking his wrists together in an intricate set of knots. Then she tied his feet together.
“You were a Girl Scout?” Lark asked. She had already given the dispatch operator our address.
“No, these are nautical knots,” Mom said proudly. “A reef knot and a round turn with two half hitches. Tight enough to withstand a forty-mile-an-hour wind.” She glanced down at Travis. “He’s moored here, believe me. This guy’s not going anywhere.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You’re full of surprises.”
“I learned how to tie knots for my part in Romance on the High Seas. That was a few years ago, dear, but once a sailor, always a sailor.” She stood up and smoothed her skirt, her face flushed.
Chapter 31
The Cypress Grove PD, headed by Rafe and Opie, were the first on the scene. Rafe and Opie came in crashing in with guns drawn, shouting for everyone to stay still. Not a problem, as no one was moving and Travis was still trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey. Opie checked out the rest of the apartment, yelled “Clear!” just like they do on CSI, and returned to the living room.
“Is everyone all right?” Rafe meant all of us, but his eyes were focused on me. A few more of Cypress Grove’s finest crowded into the room. I wanted to throw myself into Rafe’s arms but realized that would be ridiculously unprofessional. Tempting, but unprofessional.
“We’re fine.” I glanced down at Nina, who was still clinging to me. “Maybe I can get her some water, though. She’s pretty shaken up.”
“Sergeant Ramirez will get it,” Rafe said. He nodded to a pretty Hispanic officer who smiled at Nina and went into the kitchen.