All Roads Lead To Murder

by Lynn Bohart

  Shaved Head Guy, as I mentally referred to him, pointed at the car with a look of appreciation. José glanced back and shrugged.

  “What do you suppose is going on?” Doe asked nervously.

  All four of us leaned forward, peering out the front window.

  “It looks like they might be bartering for something,” Rudy replied.

  “Not us!” Doe said wide-eyed.

  “Are you kidding?” I whispered. “We wouldn’t be worth much.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Blair said from the front seat, tucking a curl behind her ear.

  The four gang-bangers, which I assumed they were, leaned in to talk privately. Shaved Head Guy nodded to José. José turned and came back to the car and leaned into the driver’s side.

  “Get out slowly and follow my lead. Wipe the car down as you go and bring my coat.”

  He turned and stepped back.

  “Oh, God, this doesn’t sound good,” Doe lamented.

  “C’mon, let’s go,” Blair said.

  We climbed out of the car, using whatever we could to wipe door handles as we went. Blair scooted across the front seat to get out by the driver’s side door and used her shawl to quickly swipe the circumference of the steering wheel.

  The three men watched with interest and then confusion as we emerged from the car.

  What did they expect?

  I remembered our credit cards, cash, and jewelry. But their stares turned to curiosity as we lined up next to José, and then…

  They laughed.

  What the heck?

  The guy from behind the car moved up and joined his friends. He pointed at Rudy and said, “Ella se parece a mi nanna.”

  His comment prompted uproarious laughter from the rest of the group.

  It was pretty clear that nanna meant nanny. I bristled, despite our situation.

  “What are they saying?” I asked José.

  “Never mind.”

  “You got to be kidding, man,” Shaved Head Guy said in English. “You say these your ladies? You mean your old ladies.”

  There was more laughter and obvious rude comments in Spanish from his colleagues.

  José shrugged. “Hey, even old guys get lonely, man.”

  My mouth dropped open.

  “Yeah, man, but they don’t want to do it with their mother,” Baseball Cap guy said, hooting with laughter again.

  The rest snickered along with him. Then Baseball Bat Guy stepped forward to stand right in front of Blair. He was almost as tall as she was and eyed her up and down, his head tilted to one side.

  Blair didn’t move. She stood with one hip thrown out and followed the man’s eyes as his penetrating look covered every inch of her body.

  “This one ain’t so bad,” he said, leering at her with a broken-tooth grin.

  Blair dipped one shoulder to lean into him. “At least you have an eye for quality, young man.”

  His dark eyes glinted. “Say, Mama, I bet you be a helluva ride.”

  “Back off,” Shaved Head Guy said. “We have business to conduct here.” He turned to José. “Like I said, we’ll take the car. That’s the deal.”

  “But…” I started.

  Blair stomped on my foot. “Ow!”

  José glanced back at the Cadillac. “Deal.”

  “Good doing business with you, homeboy,” Shaved Head Guy said. “Give my love to the Santa Monica 13.” An evil laugh erupted from his throat.

  He stepped past José with a lingering smile and slid in behind the wheel of the Cadillac. His friends followed, undressing us with their eyes as they went. The guy with the angel tattoo nodded to me.

  “You look like my fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Muñoz,” he said with a seductive wink. “I always had a thing for her.”

  A twinge of disgust twisted my gut. He purposely brushed my shoulder in passing.

  When Shaved Head Guy started the engine, we moved to either side of the alley. The car began to roll forward, and Shaved Head Guy leaned out the window. “Take it easy, man.”

  The tail lights disappeared into the well of the long alley, and they were gone.

  We just stood and stared after them.

  “Well, easy come, easy go,” Rudy finally said. She spun in the opposite direction. “Let’s go.”

  “What about the Cadillac?” Doe said, turning to follow Rudy. “How do we explain that?”

  “We don’t. It’s not our responsibility anymore.” Rudy began walking out of the alley the way we’d come in.

  Blair handed José his coat. “Nice job.”

  I grabbed Doe’s elbow. “C’mon, Doe. The good news is that now you don’t have to worry about getting arrested for car theft.”

  “Yes, but why do we always have to end up in dirty basements, tunnels, or rat-infested alleys?”

  “Topic for another time,” Rudy called out from a few feet ahead.

  Blair pulled out her phone as we moved toward the street. “We’re close to the Sheraton. And we’re late, so we’d better hurry.”

  We left the claustrophobic darkness of the alley and within a couple of minutes came within sight of the NBC Tower and several other high rises.

  “Only a couple more blocks,” Blair said, glancing again at her phone.

  “Jeez, if I’d known we’d be trekking to the dinner, I would have brought my tennis shoes,” Doe whined.

  Rudy looked at her watch. “It’s 6:45. Why don’t you call David?”

  My phone pinged, making us look at each other in surprise. It was David.

  “Where are you?” he demanded.

  “We’re almost there. We had a little…um…trouble.”

  “A little trouble?” Rudy said with a snort.

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing,” I said, throwing a dirty look at Rudy. “Our rental died, and we had to get another…ride.”

  “Okay,” he said with a sigh. “At least you weren’t in any danger.”

  “No, no, we weren’t in any real danger. José is with us and has everything under control. I’ll text you when we get there.”

  “Okay, see you soon.”

  We hung up.

  “You’re going to hell for all the times you’ve lied to that man,” Blair said over her shoulder.

  I blew out a breath. “I know. But he’d worry more if he knew we’d stolen a car and then been car-jacked by four gang members. By the way,” I said, turning to José, “how did you strike that deal so fast?”

  “We had a couple of friends in common in California,” he said with a private smile.

  “Uh-huh,” I said.

  His smile grew into a grin.

  We crossed the Chicago River one more time, this time on foot, and approached the Sheraton. As we neared the building, we were met with a large group of protestors marching in a circle on the sidewalk across from the entrance to the hotel. They were chanting and carrying signs calling for everything from gun control to a woman’s right to choose.

  “Oh, great,” I said. “One more thing for the police to deal with.”

  The street was blocked off on either side of the building by patrol cars with their lights flashing. Officers lined the front of the entrance, and the valet parking had been moved beyond the blockade.

  We crossed the street a half block away and then joined a throng of people climbing the steps to the entrance of the building. Men were dressed in tuxedos, while the women sparkled and shined in silks, velvets, sequins and jewels. We fit right in.

  We had to pass through security to have our IDs checked and our purses searched and then walk through a metal detector. The alarms went off when Rudy went through and they hurried her off to the side. When they went through her purse, they found the controls to our intercoms.

  “Call Detective Mankiewicz,” I said. “He’ll vouch for us.”

  The officer did that, and a few minutes later the young, slender detective showed up. I explained what Rudy had in her purse.

  “We needed a way to communicate w
ith each other. Nothing nefarious.”

  He gave me an exasperated sigh. “That’s okay,” he said, looking at the security officer. “Let them in.”

  Rudy got her purse back, and Detective Mankiewicz gave us a severe look. “I know Detective Franks gave you instructions, but I want to make something clear. This is not some game. These people are serious. They’ve already killed three people.”

  “You don’t need to convince us,” Doe said. “We’re quite aware of the danger.”

  Her imperial attitude took him by surprise. He glanced at her and then nodded. “Okay. Let Detective Franks know you’re here.”

  He left, and we approached the registration tables where they handed us our name tags and table assignments. Since we hadn’t paid yet, we were directed over to another table where they took our credit cards.

  When we were finally allowed into the foyer, Doe spoke up.

  “Well, I for one, need to use the ladies’ room.”

  “Me, too,” I said.

  The four of us quickly used the restroom to clean up after our long walk. We returned to the foyer and backed up to a wall so that we could see the room. I texted David and told him we’d wait there.

  “What happens if you see Graham?” Blair asked me.

  A sudden panic welled in my chest. I’d forgotten I would have my ex-husband and current boyfriend in the same room. One was a governor and the other a cop. What could go wrong?

  “I guess I’ll cross that bridge when…”

  “What bridge?” David asked, coming up behind me.

  “Uh…the Chicago River bridge. We crossed it three times tonight.”

  Blair dropped her chin and pressed her lips together to hide a smile.

  “And then our car almost caught fire,” Doe said. She gave me a conspiratorial nod.

  “That’s right,” I said. “We must have had a short or something in the dashboard.”

  He put a hand on my shoulder. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay, but what’s with the blond hair?”

  “We didn’t want to be recognized,” I said, disappointed in his response.

  “Okay, I get it. Good idea. Are Goldie and Aria here?”

  “I don’t know. We haven’t seen them yet. But on our way here, we did see the RV with Monty and Roy,” I told him. “They must be here somewhere.”

  “Governor Applegate!” someone called out.

  Graham and Kitty had just gotten off the elevator and came through the main entrance into the foyer. They were surrounded by several members of Graham’s staff, who were attempting to create a barrier between him and a couple of press people.

  “I thought the press wasn’t going to be allowed in here,” I said to David.

  “Not in the banquet room. This will be as far as they get.”

  Graham stopped in the middle of the foyer when a reporter stuck a microphone in his face. Even from where we stood, we could hear the question.

  “Governor, what do you know about the abduction of Senator Owens’ daughter?”

  Much of the room chatter around him fell silent, and we perked up to hear what he said.

  “The FBI and our local police are working diligently to find her. I have every confidence she will be brought home safe and sound. Thank you,” he replied.

  I released a sigh of relief that he hadn’t revealed Amy’s rescue.

  Graham grabbed Kitty’s hand and pushed past the reporter.

  “He likes an audience,” David murmured.

  A part of me flared in defense. “Part of the job,” I said as casually as I could. “Why don’t we go inside and find our seats?”

  “Okay. I’ll be close by.” He reached out and squeezed my hand. “Be careful.”

  “Always,” I said as the warmth of his touch tingled up my arm.

  David turned to José. “Stick close.”

  José nodded, and David left.

  I turned to my friends and tapped my earpiece. “Okay, everyone turned on?”

  “Julia!” Blair burst out in a laugh. “That’s sounds like something I’d say.”

  “Fine,” I said, blushing.

  “I think we can all hear each other,” Rudy said with a smile.

  “Yes, we certainly can,” Aria’s voice came over the coms.

  “Aria, where are you?” I asked.

  “In the banquet room.”

  “Okay. Then let’s split up. Keep your eyes peeled. Blair, you’re with me.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The dinner was being held in the Chicago Room, a space where vendors normally display their wares and network with attendees during conferences. Since the Chicago Room was the only place that could accommodate a stage, entertainment and seating for 1,000 dinner guests however, the vendors had been moved to the grand ballroom.

  The Chicago Room was oval shaped and open to a vaulted ceiling. The mezzanine, where there were offices and meeting rooms, overlooked the expansive area below. The second floor could be accessed by stairs at either side of the room and an elevator at the north end.

  After going through the final check point, we entered the room. Round tables draped in white extended before us like a sea of lily pads. In the middle of each table was a red and blue floral arrangement, sporting a small American flag. Since the overhead lights had been dimmed, small red, white and blue LED lights hidden within the centerpieces sparkled like tiny patriotic glow bugs.

  “I thought the Fourth of July was over,” Rudy sniped.

  “Down, girl,” I said.

  A band played from the north end of the room, where a stage had been set up to accommodate the speakers.

  “Look at the stage,” Doe said. “I feel I ought to salute.”

  She was referring to a backdrop composed of four large rice paper panels that framed the platform. The panels had been stenciled with a red, white and blue swirling ribbon accented with a splash of white stars and the words “In God We Trust.” Directly in front of the panels stood the podium, which was dressed with patriotic fabric and a Republican Governors’ Association logo.

  “Almost makes my eyes water,” I said. “This must be what they mean when they say draped in the flag.”

  I glanced up to the center of the high ceiling where three enormous crystal chandeliers hung in a row. Each was festooned with bands of white chiffon pulled across to the second floor railings where they were tied off and adorned with giant red fabric roses.

  The room was already half full. Most people were milling about or standing in line at one of the four bars set up on either side. I recognized a couple of governors and senators, even the head of the Republican National Committee. It was going to be a who’s who of Republican politics.

  My liberal toes curled.

  “Do you see Senator Owens?” Rudy asked, her gaze sweeping the room.

  “No,” I replied. “But, so far, I don’t see Monty or Roy, either.”

  “It’s time to split up,” she said. “Stay in touch.”

  “Will do,” I said.

  Rudy and Doe began to gravitate toward the left side of the room, pretending to look for their table. Blair and I moved right.

  “Our table is right there,” I said quietly to Blair, pointing a few feet in front of us.

  It wasn’t a surprise that we’d been seated in the back since we’d made last minute reservations. The table was empty, so we wandered further into the room.

  As we weaved in and out among the guests, a dark young man approached in a gray suit with one of the gold leaf pins on his lapel. He gave me a slight nod as I silently slipped passed him without comment, relieved at the knowledge that law enforcement was in the room.

  “There’s Aria,” Blair said. She nodded towards a large side entrance. Aria’s tall, angular figure stood out next to a small folding table set up for discarded drink glasses.

  “I see her.” She gave me a slight nod. “I wonder where Goldie is.”

  “She’s over here,” Rudy said.

  We located Rudy now across t
he room at one of the bars. Goldie was a few feet away helping another member of the wait staff set out water glasses. She looked comical stuffed into too-tight black pants and a white button-down shirt with a little black ribbon at the neckline.

  “Not her best look,” Blair said too loudly.

  “Then it’s a good thing she’s too far away to hear you,” Aria said through the earpiece.

  I nudged Blair and gestured toward Aria. Blair gave her a quick look. “Sorry,” she murmured.

  “Let’s focus on the task at hand,” Rudy said. “Keep milling about.”

  Blair and I began to wander through the room and passed José standing against the wall watching us.

  “Julia!” a voice rang out.

  I whirled around to find the wife of one of Washington’s state senators approaching me.

  “What in the world are you doing here?” she asked with a slur.

  “Oh, Penny, how nice to see you.” Fortunately, she was alone and already a little sloshed. My mind was doing somersaults as I contemplated what I assumed would be the first of many lies I would be forced to tell. “Where’s Richard?”

  “Oh, he’s schmoozing someone he thinks will give him money,” she said with a smirk. “You know how it goes. It’s all about the money. But what in the world have you done to your hair?” she asked, reaching out to touch the wig.

  I’d forgotten about the wig and reached up to touch it myself. “Oh, I’m just having some fun. You know…when in Vegas…” I said, giving her a false giggle.

  She threw her head back and cackled, spilling her drink down the front of her dress. “Oh, oops.”

  I’d known many spouses during my marriage to Graham who felt smothered by the life their husband chose and drank too much as a result. It made me feel sad for Penny, whose brilliant career as an interior designer had dissolved when her attorney husband had gone into politics.

  “I understand completely,” she said, wiping the drink off her silk dress. “I like to have a little fun on the side myself.” She leaned in, flooding the air around us with the scent of the chardonnay in her hand. “We’ll have to get together sometime and swap stories.” She eyed Blair standing silently beside me, winked at her, and then slipped into the crowd.