CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Roxy
THE WALLS WITH dark wood paneling and homey wall art of the coffee shop faded into a background universe that surrounded me, yet seemed out-of-focus and distant as Richards and I held each other’s gaze. It was the clerk’s voice that broke the silence.
“P.T., your coffee’s getting cold.”
The clerk stood behind the counter holding a paper cup and watching Richards. “Let me pour you another, P.T. This one’s cold now.” He turned away, emptied the contents, and poured steaming coffee into a new paper cup.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying, Mr. Richards?” I asked.
He gestured at the table Lily and I had been using. “Might we talk for a moment?”
“Lily, we’re not leaving quite yet.” I regarded the frail old man before me. “Would you help Mr. Richards to the table?”
He turned around, paid for his purchase, and shuffled toward the table while I carried the fresh cup of coffee and his cinnamon roll. Richards thanked me, then picked at his roll as Lily and I sat on the opposite side of the table.
Between nibbles, he said, “It is nice to have a youthful smile to look at again.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Richards, but we don’t have much time. I’m afraid we’re planning on leaving town.”
He examined my face and frowned. “Hasn’t Carlsbad always been your home?”
“Yes, but there are too many people looking for us. Your friend, Mateo Carli, is among them.”
He nodded, his face grim. “I understand things did not go well for Mateo last night.” He stopped and shrugged. “Nor for Sonny Panaman.”
I raised my eyebrows and peered at him. “What happened?”
“He is dead. The morning news said he died in a gun battle.”
I gasped and bit my lip. I could barely breathe—not because Sonny might be gone, but because I now had to confront what might have happened to Skip. “Were there any other deaths reported?”
“You must mean Mr. Cosgrove. The police have released him pending further investigation.”
I closed my eyes and listened to my heart beat again. Released. He was alive. I scrutinized Richards, wanting to learn more about this other copy of The Last Warhol, but also desperate for news of Skip. “Investigation? Of what?”
“You have not heard about last night?” Richards asked.
“We haven’t had contact with anyone since we escaped the house.”
Richards nodded. “A wise move. Given what you have been through. And Bruno Panaman has never been a forgiving man. Miss Tanner, the newscaster speculated there were others at the scene who eluded capture. Does this mean those are the others looking for you?”
“Yes.” I nodded, smiled, and squeezed Lily’s hand. “But you didn’t answer my question. You said someone killed Sonny Panaman last night? Did the news mention suspects?”
“The police are not releasing information at this time.”
If Sonny was dead, he would never bother Lily or me again, but had Skip killed him? Even if he hadn’t, Bruno would blame me for Sonny’s death.
Richards sighed as he gazed back at me. “I am sorry, Miss Tanner, but I only know what I have heard on the news this morning. They are also sensationalizing this as a local mob hit.”
“I thought you said Sonny was shot in a gun battle.”
“Miss Tanner, they are reporting multiple assaults on the house. In short, they are calling the shooting of Sonny Panaman an execution.”
“Awesome,” Lily muttered. “Dude had it coming. At least it’s over.”
“An execution? Skip would never do something like that.”
“They provided no details, Miss Tanner.”
The chills I’d felt before were back in force. Sonny might be dead, but that didn’t mean our ordeal was over. Quite the contrary. Just as Lily was venting her anger right now to deal with the shock, Bruno would want to retaliate. Though he’d never been an ally, he followed a code that had provided us with some sort of detente. With Sonny’s death, that uneasy peace could die. We’d merely exchanged one enemy for another.
I glanced sideways at Lily. She had a pained expression on her face, so I put my arm around her shoulders and she leaned into me. As much as it hurt to see her unhappy, I knew my decision was for the best. Wasn’t that what parents did? Made the hard choices? I gripped her shoulders and held eye contact as I spoke.
“This doesn’t change anything, sweetheart. We still need to disappear. In fact, maybe more than ever.” I looked across the table at Richards. “Another copy of this painting only devalues it further.”
Lily leaned toward me and huffed. “How do you know until you see it?”
Seriously? She wanted to go look at a painting when we should be planning our escape? “I don’t know if we have time for that, Lily. What we’re about to do requires a great deal of planning.”
Richards shook his head slowly from side-to-side as he watched me. “This is my fault. I never should have helped Remedios.”
“What happened decades ago had nothing to do with today’s events. Sonny Panaman’s greed is at the root of this—actually, my own, too. If I hadn’t tried to con him, this never would have happened.”
“No, Miss Tanner.” Richards gazed at me with the confidence of a man who had seen the world. “You are not solely responsible here. All events in our lives conspire to our ultimate ending. But I think we should continue this discussion back at my house. And as you say, you need to do a good deal of planning. Should an alternative not be part of those plans?”
Lily gazed up at me. She sniffled, but her jaw was set. “C’mon, Roxy, we gotta like try. And it will be totally safe there.”
“It will be worth your while, Miss Tanner. I guarantee it.”
That was rich. A convicted felon was telling me to trust him rather than my own instincts. How many times had I said those same words to someone right before stealing their money? I glanced at Richards, then focused on Lily.
“This is important to you, isn’t it?”
She bit her lip and looked off to the side. Her voice cracked as she spoke. “For the first time in my life I feel like someplace is home. Isn’t that worth fighting for?”
“Sweetheart, there are some bad men wanting to find us. They all want us dead. The odds of winning are not in our favor.”
“But Roxy, you’re always telling me I can do anything I want. You say I shouldn’t let the odds stop me from trying. Was that all just a bunch of BS?”
I peered at her, then snickered. “Okay, you got me. But I have you to think about now. This isn’t the same as trying out for the track team or finding a better job. These are our lives we’re talking about.”
“Miss Tanner, might I add something?”
Richards peered at me with an unblinking gaze. I recognized the stare. His was a debilitating illness that would eventually take his life. But there was understanding there. He’d spent time in prison. Surely he understood the stakes better than a fourteen-year-old girl.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Thank you.” He nodded and looked directly at me, still never blinking. “This young lady is correct. If you run, you will be on the run for the rest of your lives, but if you stay and fight, you could be free forever.”
My jaw dropped, and I realized I’d clenched a fist. “That’s a nice platitude, Mr. Richards, but…”
Lily put her hand on mine and I stopped in mid-sentence.
“Roxy?” Lily looked at me with those wide eyes. “Please?”
I knew in that moment I could not say no to her. My insides churned at the thought of facing so many enemies, but there was also something different—a sensation I hadn’t experienced since I’d stood in Jack Welton’s livingroom knowing I was about to seal the deal on a million dollar con. It was the rush of the con. A competitive urge so deep it had consumed me for nearly my entire life. I took a deep breath and peered at Richards.
“Okay, Mr. Richards. You said
there was another copy of The Last Warhol. It’s time you proved it.”
CHAPTER FIFTY
Skip
SKIP ROLLED DOWN the window and let the onshore breeze soften the oppressive atmosphere inside the car. He’d been sitting in the same place for ten minutes and couldn’t decide. Should he go back in? Or not? He was still debating the issue when a Carlsbad PD cruiser pulled up to the house and parked. The officer exited the vehicle, looked directly at Skip, then shot another glance at him over his shoulder as he walked to the front door.
The answer to his dilemma was obvious now—there was no way he could return to have things out with Bruno. That old dog had called the police, even after he’d let Skip in and threatened him with a gun. Skip rubbed his forehead. Of course, Bruno would twist the story. He’d probably claim Skip had broken in and say his life had been jeopardized. How the story would play depended greatly on how sympathetic the cop was to drunken old men.
Skip reached out and started the ignition, then slowly drove around and out the cul-de-sac. After turning the corner, he put his earpiece back in. “Baldorf? You there?”
A moment later, he heard a familiar reply. “I’m here, dude, but you’ve got to stop cutting me off like that. What happened in Papa Panaman’s house? Is the bug still there?”
“Slow down, Baldorf. I should have kept the earpiece in. Now it’s just Bruno’s word against mine.”
“TLI, dude. TLI.”
“Does everything need to be an acronym these days? What’s TLI? Too little information?”
“For sure. Between you and Roxy, I’m like in that spot most of the time.”
“So there’s no word from her?”
“She’s still off the grid. I’m totally starting to get worried. So what happened?”
Skip recapped his conversation with Bruno, reassured Baldorf the bug was still where he’d planted it, then said he was returning to Roxy’s last known location.
“Don’t know what good that will do, bro. You hoping to find something?”
“Not really, but she and Lily were on foot. They would have been searching for shelter. I want to see if there’s a place nearby where they might have stayed the night.”
“Worth a shot. Anything from the cops?”
“If you mean, is Grimes going to throw the book at me—no, I don’t know what he’ll do. But Lorena’s working on it and I’m sure she’ll let me know if my status as a free man changes. I’ll be in touch after I check out the alley again.”
Thirty minutes later, Skip parked on the street a half block from the spot where he’d found Roxy’s earpiece. He broke the area into a grid and thoroughly checked each section. As discreetly as possible, he checked the backyards butting up against the alley. When he finished, he reconnected with Baldorf and headed back to the car.
“There’s nothing here, buddy.”
“Not surprised, dude. The way the girl said they had to disappear I figured she’d be thorough. While you were doing your thing, I mapped her locations from last night. It’s only when she was connected, but if you’re super intent on checking her previous locations, that might help. I’m sending a map to your phone.”
Skip scrutinized the map, ruling out places based on how far they were from his present location. By the time he’d finished, the list was empty. “Baldorf, this is not working. But there’s one place she was last night I know of that’s not on your map. The two of us were at Blues & Brews. We saw Mateo Carli and met Lorenzo’s brother. The bar had closed by the time we freed Lily, but I think it’s worth a try.”
“I hate to be a negative-nancy on this brainstorm of yours, bro, but why would she go there if it’s the Italian dude’s hangout? That’s like, so not logical.”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, Baldorf, it’s to never rule out choices Roxy might make based on logic. She’s lived her life making decisions that seem totally illogical, but make perfect sense when you look at them from a different perspective. That bar is within easy walking distance, and if she didn’t go there, maybe she hid out somewhere nearby.”
As he drove the ten blocks to the bar, Skip remained silent. He was probably wasting his time. Roxy was an expert chameleon, able to blend in and disappear at will. But the truth was he couldn’t stop—as long as he was busy trying to find her there was hope.
Rudy Neri was on the sidewalk in front of Blues and Brews sweeping when Skip first saw him. He had the front door of the bar open and glanced up as Skip approached. Rudy’s brow creased as though he was trying to place a familiar face. When Skip waved, Rudy’s frown deepened, but he waved back.
“We met last night,” Skip said.
Rudy nodded to himself. “Right. You were with P.T.’s friend. Sorry, but we’re closed now. We open for lunch in a couple of hours.”
“I’m not here for lunch.”
“Oh, I remember now. You were the guy wanting information. Let me guess. You have more questions.”
Skip’s phone buzzed. He seized the handset and looked at the display, hoping it would be a number he didn’t recognize, but it was Lorena. Whatever she wanted, it would have to wait. He sent the call to voicemail. “Sorry about that. The woman I was with last night? She and the girl we were trying to rescue have disappeared. I’m looking for them.”
Rudy frowned and peered at Skip. “Wait. So you got the kid back, but now she’s missing again? Sounds like a runaway.”
Skip sighed and stared across the street. This side was bathed in sunlight, but the shadows were still long and deep on the other. The storefronts had only shallow bay-window openings. With the cold and damp last night, they needed much more than this street offered for shelter.
“Roxy and Lily—that’s the girl—are on the run because there are people after them. Look, Mr. Neri, I’m out of options. My only choice is to trust you. One of the people who’s looking for them is Mateo Carli.”
Rudy swallowed hard and leaned on his broom, a grimace on his face. “Is that what happened to Uncle Mateo? I heard he was arrested last night. Is this all part of that same thing?”
“Yes. I’m sorry, but he was part of it.”
“Was that you? Were you there?” Rudy tilted the broom in Skip’s direction.
“Your uncle wanted to kill a man named Sonny Panaman. I suspect he was successful, but he wants to frame me for it.”
Rudy let out a slow breath and cocked his head toward the open front door. “Come inside. There are things you need to understand about Uncle Mateo.”
They entered the bar, Rudy locked the door, and they sat at a nearby table. “My uncle spends time here, but I’ve never approved of his life choices.” He went on to explain much of the background Skip had learned from Daniela Neri, and when at the end, added, “I’m kind of hoping my uncle goes back to prison. It might teach my brother Uncle Mateo is a loser, not a swashbuckling pirate-hero.”
“There’s a good chance you’ll get your wish, but I believe your brother was there, too. Your uncle wasn’t the only reason Roxy and Lily ran—there are others after them. I’m sure they spent the night on the streets. Is there somewhere around here they could have gone?”
Rudy shook his head. “I doubt it. In this neighborhood there are no shelters. You know, you might want to talk to P.T.”
“Richards? Why?”
“Because he sent me a strange text about twenty minutes ago.” He pulled out his phone, tapped the screen, then turned the phone so Skip could read it.
Remedios may finally be satisfied. May need your help.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Roxy
AT MY INSISTENCE, Richards gave us the address and directions. We gave him a ten-minute lead and now stood before an old Craftsman with grayish-green paint and tan accents. During the short walk here I’d kept a watchful eye out for anyone who might be following us. While it was reassuring to not see guys hanging out on street corners, it also had me wondering what was coming next.
We went to the back of the house as Richards had
told us to do. I knocked, we waited, and the doubts surfaced. If there really was an exact duplicate of the painting, I might have a plan. But if the copy Richards had in his possession wasn’t perfect, this was a waste of time. And we were exposed…
The door cracked open and Richards peered out at us. His face lit up with a smile. “Ah, Miss Tanner. You came.”
He eased the door shut to unlatch the deadbolt, then gestured for us to come in. We entered a room—an obvious add-on which had been set up as a laundry room. It had white paneling, a wooden floor, and a single overhead lightbulb. Except for the interior wall where the washer and dryer were located, painter’s canvases were stacked against all the walls. Lily and I stared in amazement, unable to count their number.
“How many paintings do you have?” I asked.
Richards glanced around and his brow furrowed. “In this room, fifty? A hundred? They are all trash.”
“No way,” Lily muttered.
“Why?” I inspected the nearest one on the floor, a portrait of a woman with dark hair pinned up and wearing a low-cut dress. She wore a simple gold chain around her neck. “These are incredible. Did you paint them?”
“Yes, but this is not the piece you came to see.” Richards took the painting from my hands, returned it to the pile, and cocked his head toward the door. “Please, follow me.”
He led us through the back room and into the kitchen. Lily gaped at more paintings as we walked. At one point she paused, and her jaw dropped as she craned her neck forward. She gaped at me and whispered, “Did he like paint all these?”
I shrugged. “I guess. If he did, he’s far better than I thought.”
“Wish I could do that.”
I poked her in the shoulder. “Maybe someday. Keep walking, kid.”
Shadows from the Past Page 22