Brooks-Lotello Collection

by Ronald S. Barak

  LOTELLO, BROOKS, AND LONERGAN sat down in a quiet little nook off to the side of the foyer outside the ballroom where the Hart and Connor interview had concluded only moments earlier. Lotello pondered how best to answer Lonergan’s question about why he was interested in Grey.

  Of course, what he wanted to know about Grey was how she felt about Lasko, Llewellyn, and Simpson. He knew she knew about Lasko’s disappearance, but he had no reason to believe she knew about Llewellyn’s, Simpson’s, or Enright’s disappearances. He didn’t want to spook her. He was also sensitive to a possible conflict of interest were he to raise these disappearances in terms of the TITO board’s lack of transparency. So much for transparency. Isn’t it remarkable how easy it becomes for one to rationalize not being transparent.

  He decided to be as circumspect and narrow as possible. “Ms. Lonergan, I was wondering if you know about any prior dealings between Ms. Grey and Ms. Lasko, the literary agent.”

  “First off, could we please possibly dispense with all of the formalities?” Lonergan suggested. Please call me Eileen, and I hope I can call you Frank. Cyrus and I are already on a first-name basis.”

  “Sure. Of course,” Lotello agreed.

  “Great. It would also be helpful if I could get one other matter out of the way. I know you know that I know that Genevieve Lasko, the well-known literary agent you just mentioned, was discovered missing sometime last Monday,” Lonergan added. “Whew, that was a lot of ‘knows.’ Sorry. Talking to judges and detectives makes me nervous! To clarify, I noticed you sitting at the next table when Petra Pappas told Allison Rutledge and me on Tuesday what she had heard about Lasko that morning. I wasn’t sure, but I thought you might have been listening in on our conversation. Seemed a little odd, but I didn’t want to make an issue out of it at the time.”

  “Mea culpa, I didn’t mean to be snooping. At least not initially. I also didn’t realize I was so obvious. It was rude of me. Just professional habit, I guess, especially when I hear words like ‘missing’ and ‘persons’ in the same sentence. Your friend Petra’s voice does tend to carry a little.”

  “Yes, especially when she gets excited,” Lonergan admitted. “You should hear her when she receives some positive feedback on one of her novels. Does your inquiry about Wynonna have anything to do with Lasko’s disappearance? Wynonna is a lovely person, quite delicate really. I can’t possibly imagine her knowing anything about that or having anything to do with it.”

  “You’re very perceptive,” Lotello said, wanting to draw Lonergan out. “Actually, Wynonna does have a prior history with Lasko. She once reached out to Lasko for representation. Lasko turned her down. At TITO’s request, Cyrus and I have been looking into a handful of writers here this week who have also had prior dealings with Lasko, especially negative ones.”

  “Well, I can only repeat what I just said,” Lonergan continued. “I only met Wynonna here at TJ and I don’t know her that well, but it is beyond my limited comprehension that Wynonna would hurt a fly, let alone a literary agent who did nothing more than reject an author query. That’s so common in the literary world. Authors are pretty much used to that. Authors who can’t handle rejection usually find something other than writing to pursue.”

  “I appreciate your input. The world of writing is quite new me, apart from being an avid reader, that is,” Lotello confessed.

  “It may be a stretch, and I don’t like to speak ill of anyone, especially when I don’t know them well, but I do have something of a possible observation where Wynonna is concerned, if you’re interested.”

  “Please.”

  “Jonathan Connor,” Lonergan allowed. “He seems to be very close to Wynonna. And very controlling of her. Supposedly, he’s just mentoring her, but I’m not so sure there isn’t more to their relationship.”

  Lotello and Brooks stole a quick glance at one another. “How do you mean?” Lotello asked.

  “Just kind of a feeling. At Jonathan’s request, I put together a website for Wynonna. I’m not sure how sincere he was. I think he was just trying to show that he could generate clients for me. Wynonna loved it and was anxious for it to go live right now. But all of a sudden Jonathan then reversed course and discouraged it. And for reasons that really didn’t make any sense to me. However, the minute he did, Wynonna completely backed off.”

  “Anything else?” Brooks asked.

  “Well, as I just said, I’ve kind of had the feeling that Connor has been … working me, you might say. I don’t know why. He’s a big deal. I’m not.”

  “What makes you think that?” Lotello asked. “Not that you’re not a big deal, but that he’s been working you.”

  “The other day, I went snorkeling in the bay. I thought I was doing fine. All of a sudden, I was startled by the feel of a hand on my back as I was enjoying the fish and rock formations below me. That touch was scary, creepy. I had the sensation I was being pushed further down into the water. At first, I panicked, but then I managed to regain my bearings. Only then did the person pull me up. It was Connor. He said he saw me in the water and thought I was straying too far away from the shoreline, and so he came to my rescue. So he said. I didn’t think that was true, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt.”

  Brooks reached over and patted Lonergan on the back of her hand. “That must have been a terrible experience, Ms. Lonergan. I can tell you that sure would have unsettled me.”

  “Well, yes. Ever since, he’s been paying me a lot of attention. And promising that he can send me scads of authors who need websites built for them. Wynonna was the first. I forgot about Connor’s eerie attention until the way I saw him controlling Wynonna this morning. And until this conversation now. Still, this is all probably just my over-active imagination.”

  “I don’t know,” Lotello said. “As I remarked a moment ago, you seem to have pretty good instincts. I think you would do well to trust your own judgment and be very careful when it comes to Connor.”

  “Too bad. I could use the business Connor says he can refer to me. Do you think he might actually have anything to do with Lasko’s disappearance?”

  Lotello struggled about how to answer—or not answer—Lonergan’s question. Not just Lasko, but possibly Llewellyn, Simpson, and Enright as well. “That’s a big leap for sure, but I suppose anything’s possible. You would be wise to keep your antenna on high alert.” Lotello stole a quick peek at his watch. “There are a couple other things I have to tend to this afternoon. Cyrus and I very much appreciate your help. Anything else you’d like to tell us for now?”

  “Not that I can think of. Except will you please let me know whatever the two of you find out about Connor?”

  “Of course, Ms. Lonergan, I mean Eileen,” Brooks said as they stood. “Thanks again.”

  LOTELLO WAITED AS LONERGAN cut across the foyer to the elevator bank where he and Brooks had first intercepted her. “Did you notice how Lonergan’s disposition changed as our conversation evolved?” he asked Brooks.

  “How do you mean?” Brooks asked.

  “When Lonergan first spoke of Connor, she called him ‘Jonathan.’ As our conversation continued, he became ‘Connor,’ rather than ‘Jonathan,’ contrary to her stated preference for informality. In my experience, people distance themselves from others in terms of how they refer to them when they are not comfortable with the person. Lonergan is very tactful. I think she may be more worried about Connor than she let on.”

  “Good observation. And your second point?” Brooks asked as they reached the elevators, and Lotello pushed the up button.

  “Lonergan knows about Lasko’s disappearance,” Lotello answered. “We have no reason, however, to believe she is aware that Llewellyn, Simpson, and Enright are also missing. All we cautioned her, and vaguely at that, was to keep her antenna on high alert. Do you think that was sufficient without mentioning the other missing persons?”

  “That did bother me a little too,” Brooks said. “Classic conflict: duty to her to be more informative an
d possible duty to TITO not to reveal its vulnerability. On a strict need-to-know basis, I thought we opted correctly, but it was a close call and is a bit unsettling.”

  “Glad to know the failure to be more forthcoming to Lonergan wasn’t only mine, Judge.”

  Brooks nodded as the elevator beeped, and the doors opened. “Either way, it occurs to me that you now have a lot more to discuss with Connor when you catch up to him than just the insulin and syringes in his room, and why he anonymously hid them away the moment he learned they had been discovered.”

  THE MAN AND WOMAN sat at a secluded table in the back of the dim bar. It was midday, but the room was poorly lit. Even on Punta Maya, there were times when people preferred not to be noticed.

  She was already seated when he arrived. He watched her fidgeting with her ring when he took the chair on the other side of the table. She avoided making eye contact with him. At his invitation, they ordered drinks.

  “Were you surprised to hear from me?” he asked.

  “Not really,” she replied with a bit of a tremor in her voice. “I thought you would want to meet, but, frankly, I was taken aback by—and am not entirely comfortable with—your choice of venue.”

  “Why is that? Are you afraid of being alone with me?”

  She paused. “Not at all,” she stated unconvincingly. She toyed with her drink.

  “You do seem nervous. Why is that? Do you not have the courage of your convictions?”

  “I certainly do,” she said, drawing more erect in her chair.

  Hart captured Jackson with his steel blue eyes. “Well, I’m not as confident as you are, Ms. Jackson. Which is why I suggested meeting in this private setting. Your actions have created a horrible conflict for me.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Day Four, 2:00 p.m.

  HOPING SOMEONE MIGHT BE able to tell him where he could find Connor, Lotello paid a visit to Thriller Jubilee’s administrative offices in the hotel. One of the volunteers working in the office looked at the TJ master program to see if Connor was speaking on any of the two o’clock panels. He wasn’t. “How about Ms. Lewis? Anyone know where she is?” Lotello asked.

  “Try the TJ bookstore,” the volunteer suggested.

  A few minutes later, that’s where Lotello found Lewis, talking to some people he didn’t recognize. That came as no surprise. He knew few people in the literary world. He caught her eye and waited.

  A few minutes went by before she broke loose and hurried over to him. “Sorry, Frank. Any news? Anything I can do?”

  He didn’t want to reveal the discussion he and Brooks had just had with Lonergan. He also didn’t want to get bogged down. “Nothing new to report just yet. Do you have any idea where I can find Connor?”

  “I saw him in the press room a few minutes ago. It’s down at the end of the hallway. He was recording a radio interview with one of the book talk shows. He might still be there.”

  “Thanks, I’ll give that a try.” Excuse in hand, Lotello hurried away before Lewis could question him any further.

  LOTELLO ALL BUT BUMPED into Connor and an attractive young woman in the small excuse of a press room. Talking back and forth, they were each wearing headsets and were surrounded by an assembly of high-tech recording equipment that almost filled the entire room. Connor seemed to be enjoying himself, if not the young woman as well. If he’d caught sight of Lotello, he didn’t let on.

  The interview ended fifteen minutes later, at which point Connor and the young woman took off their headsets and shook hands. Connor picked up a shoulder bag and started to walk off, still not showing any interest in Lotello.

  “Wait up, Mr. Connor, we need to talk,” Lotello said.

  Connor didn’t break his stride. “I have nothing to talk about with you. Get out of my way.”

  Even faster, Lotello stepped in front of Connor and blocked his way. They almost collided.

  “As I understand it, insulin is a life-threatening drug,” Lotello said. “I need to know about your insulin cache, why you have it, and why you tried to squirrel it away. One way or the other, we’re going to talk. Now. How much of a scene do you want to make? It doesn’t matter to me.”

  “My insulin is none of your damn business,” Connor snapped. “You may be a hotshot in D.C., but you have no authority here on Punta Maya. You’ve already invaded my privacy and trampled all over my rights. Do you plan to add assault and battery to the list?”

  “Save it for your fans, Connor, I’m not impressed. I gather you’re a lawyer or once were. I’m sure you understand my rights to make a citizen’s arrest. It works the same way on Punta Maya as it does in the states. I know because I checked. I also made sure my liability insurance covers me anywhere in the world in case I arguably overstep my bounds. I’ve been accused of doing that before. No doubt, I’ll be accused of doing it again. So it’s up to you how we play this. Your call.” Lotello saw Connor watching the talk show personality out of the corner of his eye.

  Connor scowled at Lotello. “Not here,” he hissed.

  “I DON’T UNDERSTAND. HOW have I caused you any conflict?” Jackson asked Hart.

  “You’ve demanded a letter of apology from TITO. And two and a half million dollars.”

  “And that causes you a conflict? How?”

  “Why should TITO apologize to you?” Hart went on. “Or pay you any money, let alone the huge amount you are demanding?”

  “Because your investigator invaded my privacy and broke into my hotel room. Because TITO and its board have slandered my good name and reputation.”

  “And?”

  “And what? I don’t understand, Mr. Hart. What more do I need?”

  “Come, come, Ms. Jackson. Entry into your hotel room by our investigator acting in good faith and for good reason. When you didn’t answer his knock at your door, and he assumed you were not in your room. Do you really believe that you enjoy a reputation that has been reduced by two point five million dollars? More to the point, do you believe a judge or jury will agree with you?”

  “Coupled with slandering my name by suggesting I’m some kind of a serial killer, you bet I do,” she barked.

  “Really, to whom do you maintain we accused you of being a serial killer, or any kind of killer at all?” Hart asked. “The New York Times? The two thousand participants at TJ? To whom, Ms. Jackson?”

  Jackson did not answer.

  “Allow me to answer for you,” Hart said. “The only one to whom TITO’s board has ever mentioned your name are the members of its board itself and some three or four agents of the board. And what did we say about you? Only that three other members of our board who have vanished here at TJ all previously declined to represent you and that such rejection of you may—emphasize may, Ms. Jackson—have motivated you to do them harm. Such statements were true and, according to our lawyers, truth is an absolute defense to a claim of slander. Moreover, our discussions of you were confined to a small group of persons with a legitimate interest in the subject and were raised in good faith, another defense to a claim of slander. We’re sorry that you were embarrassed and are upset, but that doesn’t legally or morally warrant the payment to you the kind of money you are seeking, or any sum of money for that matter.”

  “You still haven’t explained your conflict, Mr. Hart.”

  “Patience, Ms. Jackson. I’m coming to it. When TITO refuses your demand—which I’m here to tell you it will—what will you do next?”

  “I will sue. You can count on it. TITO, and each of its board members, and their agents who broke into my hotel room.”

  “Broke into your hotel room or used a passkey furnished to them by hotel security after learning of the reason for wanting to search your room for evidence of possible crimes, with perhaps more to follow?” Hart clarified.

  Jackson frowned. “You’re twisting the facts, Mr. Hart.”

  “Allow me to quote twist a bit more,” Hart continued. “To dig a little deeper. You just said you will bring suit, Ms. Jackson. Do you r
eally think any competent lawyer is going to take on your suit? You won’t pay the necessary legal fees to induce a lawyer to proceed on your behalf because those fees will greatly exceed anything you might possibly recover in such a lawsuit. And no lawyer will take your case on a contingent fee basis for the same reason.”

  “It won’t be just me who will be suing,” Jackson said. “My lawyer says we will be bringing a class action on behalf of all of the TJ registrants.”

  “You will bring a class action. Yes, of course you will,” Hart agreed. “In bad faith. Because the privacy of your so-called class members have not been invaded, and their reputations have not been slandered. No credible lawyer will take on such a class action because when it’s thrown out, and it will be, you and that lawyer will be sued for malicious prosecution and will be required to pay our damages as a result of such a specious lawsuit.”

  “We’ll see if that’s how the public looks at it,” Jackson said, rising to her feet and signaling that the meeting was over.

  But Hart was on a roll. He was not finished. He ignored Jackson’s signal that their meeting was over. “Looks at what, Ms. Jackson?”

  “Looks at how TITO failed to come forward and warn all of its TJ participants of the danger they were in simply because TITO didn’t want to be inconvenienced or embarrassed by disclosing what it knew,” she said as she whirled and defiantly headed for the exit.

  LIONEL KELLER PRODUCED A syndicated celebrity talk show that aired all across the United States. He traveled to Punta Maya every year to individually interview a cross-section of the top bestselling novelists who attended Thriller Jubilee.

  But he’d decided to try something a little different this year. His daughter, who was away at college in New York majoring in broadcast journalism, had decided to stay in New York over the summer break, hoping to find some kind of work internship. Keller missed Ashley and knew that this was a harbinger of things to come, so he invited Ashley to accompany him to Punta Maya. She could do the interviews instead of him, meet some great writers, and beef up her contacts and her resume. We’ll get in some quality father daughter time, and I’ll get a tax write-off to boot.