The Caspian Wine Mystery/Suspense/Thriller Series

by Maggie Thom

  Her eyes now held the gleam of restored memories but her shoulders slumped. “That’s it? You were friends?”

  He leaned forward. “Yes, dear. What were you looking for, something a little more clandestine?”

  A sad smile curved her lips.

  He wasn’t sure what to make of it. “Your mom was a good person. We kept in touch for a while but she moved so much I only saw her a few times. Well, up until the last six months.” He looked at her with understanding. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

  Feeling better than he had in a long time, he looked compassionately at her. “Your mom really wasn’t one to keep much, was she? Will the cleaning up take you very long?”

  She shook her head as she stared at the liquid swishing around the glass in her hand. “No. I’m pretty much done. I just need to have the second-hand store pick up most of the stuff. The rest is garbage.”

  “You know, there used to be pictures of when you used to join me at the cabin. I’ve since sold that place but would love those pictures.”

  Her blue eyes glaciated. “Pictures? You’ve got to be kidding. There are no photos, paintings, drawings. Nothing. Never has been. If there ever were any, she got rid of them a long time ago..” She jumped to her feet, eyes wide, chest heaving. Then she stopped and stared off into space. “That’s not true. There was one. Mom kept it under wraps. She’d take it out every now and then and look at it. Then one day she just ripped it to shreds. She said something like, ‘enough of the lies, you’ll never hurt me again’.” Bailey paused. “She set the pieces on a plate, took out her lighter, lit it and watched it burn. Tears were streaming down her face. It was odd. I never understood it. And she never talked about it.”

  Lund was leaning so far forward he was on the verge of falling out of his chair. “Di...” He cleared his throat. “D-did you ever, umm, see the picture?”

  “I peeked over her shoulder once when she wasn’t paying close attention.”

  “And?”

  When her head whipped around and she frowned at him, he realized his mistake. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to sound so harsh. I just got caught up in the story. Please continue.”

  She focused on him. He tried not to fidget as he practiced his polished look, one he hoped people interpreted as genuine sincerity and understanding when his thoughts were anything but.

  “It was a grainy, old picture, so worn and crumpled that I could barely make out the images of the people in it. She noticed me right away and concealed it.”

  Lund blew out his held breath. “I’m sorry to hear that. No other pictures, eh? I guess with moving so much it was hard to keep anything.”

  “There are none of me.” Sighing, she studied him before turning, only to stop and face him again. “Where’s her money?”

  “What?” He worked very hard to keep his eyebrows from shooting into his hairline. He jammed his fists into the pockets of his silk robe.

  “Where’s the money she was making from the store?”

  He cocked his head slightly and assumed his genuine, caring expression. “My dear, I’m not sure what your mother told you but she really wasn’t all that good with finances. It slipped through her fingers like oil. She loved extravagant purchases; why, her favorite chocolate cost a small fortune.” However, I do have a nice bit of cash put away thanks to her. “You see, I gave her the loan for the store and I just couldn’t curb her spending. I know she’d had it tough for years, so I felt I should indulge her some. Not a good way to run a business. But I’m glad I did it. Who knew she’d have such a short time on earth?” He rose, reaching out to pat her on the shoulder but she side-stepped him. Clenching his teeth, he forced himself to smile. “I’m really sorry, dear.”

  She hesitated at the door but didn’t even have the decency to turn and face him before asking, “Uhm, do you have a bathroom I could use?”

  Confident he’d successfully diverted her questions, he nodded toward the corridor as he answered her request.

  “Just down the hall, second door on your left.”

  “Thanks.” She started to turn but hesitated. “I don’t know how to say this but, well... I have...”

  “What, dear?”

  “Well I have, you know, cramps. It’s my time of the month. I don’t think I have anything to use.”

  He had a hard time containing his disgust.

  “I feel like I’m kind of leaking. It’s so gross. But I just don’t know what to do. Would your wife or kids have any tam—”

  Horrified, he waved her away. There was nothing he hated more than hearing about women’s issues. “Upstairs. My wife’s bathroom is the third door on the right. She keeps supplies for when the girls come. Look in the big cupboard.”

  He shuddered as she walked up the ornately curved oak stairs before returning to his chair by the fire. He took the first calm breath he’d had in more than six months, ever since Donna had shown up at his office demanding answers. Picking up his glass and swishing the contents, he allowed himself to indulge in his luxuries.

  The picture is gone.

  Instantly he felt annoyed at being duped by Donna again after all these years. She’d brought him a photocopy. She’d sworn to destroy the picture so there was only that one copy. No one would have been able to decipher much in the grainy reprint, but it had been enough to get his back up. If she hadn’t been dying...

  He could barely contain his mirth as he thought about the measly ten thousand dollars he’d given her three months before to get her off his back. She’d been satisfied with that. He was just glad she’d been so gullible. It had been easy to lie to her all those years; even at the end when she’d threatened to expose him if he didn’t pay her more money. It had really been delightful knowing she had been on death’s door, so he’d been generous. He’d given her the cash and he’d agreed to organize and pay for her funeral and burial. The owner of the funeral home had a few dark secrets and had been more than willing to eliminate the bill in exchange for Lund’s silence. He hoped the services had been a sufficient farewell, a final act of gratitude for the financial gain she’d unknowingly given him.

  Knowing he was free of Donna and her threats, he allowed himself to relax. He should have known she’d been playing him all these years. Thinking back, he realized he liked the little bit of danger that she’d posed; she’d cost him precious little, only enough money to survive on while she was on the run, only sufficient warning that her husband was tracking her down, and enough misinformation about her husband watching the border to prevent her from leaving the country. He’d told enough lies to keep her right where he could keep an eye on her. And she always bought that he’d sent a cheque to the last address and if she hadn’t cashed it, someone had. How did he know she wasn’t scamming him? He’d played her so well. He’d been fairly confident she’d never have followed through with making the photo of him public. Besides, she’d given him more crooked federal politicians, doctors, lawyers, judges, and too many others for him to keep track. Some of them still had a guilty enough conscience that they continued to pay, even though they were no longer in the public eye.

  He sipped at his scotch, his eyes glancing at the door through which Bailey had left. He wondered what the little snot would do if she knew he’d forged her birth certificate. The thought of letting that cat out of the bag was tempting. The fun he could have withholding her true identity. He didn’t know her true identity but neither did she and never would. Donna had never said where she’d gotten the baby and frankly he hadn’t cared. Smiling to himself, he slowly drank the rest of the exorbitantly priced Scotch.

  Since no one had found out about him in over forty-five years since his first ‘experience’, he didn’t know why he’d worried so much. It really was a blessing that Donna had that picture and not her husband. He would have blackmailed him for every dime he had and then made it public knowledge, gloating in his ability to bring him down.

  Uh, but they lost.

  He smiled the first ge
nuine smile he’d had in a very long time.

  He was safe.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Rising from his crouched position beside a house a few doors down from Bailey’s, Payme watched the guy he’d run into finally drive away. He stood and moved along the shadows of the building. Since the girl had left and he’d already looked through her place to no avail, he may as well get his other career back on track. He walked around the house and onto the deck to peek through the patio windows. The house was spotless and on the table he could clearly see a note. There was something about the personal touch of a handwritten letter that tempted him to reconsider what he was going to do, but his need to find alternative methods to bring in money won. Mr. L would be cutting him loose soon, especially when he found out the girl had gotten away from him.

  He snuck off the deck, found a rock in the flower garden and within seconds he’d broken the glass and had climbed in. The note let him know he had plenty of time. The residents were out of town for a few days and the message was for their neighbor. Crumpling it, he chucked it on the floor before heading upstairs to the bedrooms. They were always the best places to start. Snooping through the house, he’d forgotten how much pleasure he derived from peeking into the lives of others, of taking from the lives of others. He found jewels, valuable coin collections, cash, credit cards—all that he was looking for and more. Since time wasn’t a factor, he took his time searching.

  After he had his pockets and a nice leather duffle bag full, he headed out the back door. Slithering into the darkest shadows, he clambered over the fence and scampered through the yard to the next one. The back alley had proven once too often to be the place he’d be caught. Instead, he chose to scramble over fences and dash through yards, only having to hide when the early morning partiers drove by.

  His phone rang.

  He immediately dropped to the ground, scrambling to grab the damn cell before it went off again. Since he wasn’t used to carrying one, he hadn’t thought about the noise it would make. As he answered it, he fleetingly realized that Mr. Lund would want it back.

  “Make sure she leaves the city. Once she’s gone, call me.”

  Payme didn’t bother to tell Lund he was across town and not on her tail as he was being paid to be.

  “That’s it. What about them pictures?” Payme scratched at his prickly stubble.

  “It’s done. You’ll get a nice bonus for your work. Call me later.” There was a distinct click as the call ended.

  Payme stared at the phone. Something didn’t feel right. He was to get her out of town and then what? Was he being hustled? He could be identified; it was uncertain whether the man he’d run into had seen his face, but the woman definitely had. It was time to eliminate her, regardless of Mr. L’s orders.

  He’d called the girl earlier to scare her. With her gone, he knew he could look freely.

  He’d wanted to get that picture, but not to simply hand it over. It just might have been his retirement ticket, but now she’d run to Lund and now he had the damn picture.

  Payme slugged back several gulps of the cheap whisky he’d swiped from the last house, shuddering as it hit his empty stomach. He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and holding it below his nose, he took a long whiff. It had been a while since he’d had a fresh pack of smokes. Thankfully, bumming and smoking butts would now be on hold for a while. He reached into his shirt pocket to get his matches but they weren’t there, despite patting down all his pockets. Swearing, he looked around. He’d left his car a few blocks away. Since no alarms had sounded, he was emboldened to take the alley. He was returning to his vehicle, smoking a few cigarettes, sleeping a bit and then he’d call Mr. L to tell him the girl was gone. He’d then grab Bailey when she returned to the house. Once he had her, he and Lund would renegotiate their agreement—after he’d had a bit of fun with her, of course.

  Lund seemed way too eager to keep tabs on her, so there had to be some serious money to be made.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Bailey drove back across the city, wondering if it was safe to return to the house. A couple blocks away from her mom’s, she pulled over to draw in several calming breaths and steady her frayed nerves.

  She tried to make sense of all that was going on. First, there had been the intruder and then Lund with all his lies, and she wasn’t sure which one was creepier. Lund had been good, slimy but good. He’d almost had her believing he was genuinely sad her mother had passed away. But she knew better. Living on the street had taught her a few things. She hadn’t acted the victim since she was about fourteen. She’d perfected the role of the naïve, innocent schoolgirl yearning for a little bit of cash to buy a new outfit. Would the nice gentleman please give her twenty dollars?

  That had been her scam for a long time and it had worked, at least until her mom had found out and put a stop to it. It was just another of her mom’s many major disappointments in her. Her stomach clenched at the memories of what she had done just to survive.

  Leaning back, she slid her hand into her pants pocket and pulled out the USB keychain she’d lifted from the false bottom of Lund’s desk drawer. She was confused by some of what her mom had doodled on the envelope to her but locating and getting that jump drive had been clear.

  She started to chuckle. He’d been so easy. Talking about women’s menstrual cycles always seemed to freak guys out; they didn’t dare question a fifteen or twenty-minute absence. Of course, when she’d returned and given a detailed biological explanation to Mr. Lund on menstruation cycles, it had been his undoing. He had hustled her right out the door.

  With her free hand, she reached to her hair to tug out the elastic from the ponytail. She liked the ease of it when it was pulled back but she also knew it made her seem more like a teenager than a woman pushing thirty. The effect on men was the same, they strutted their stuff like they were groomed peacocks.

  Without warning, her door was yanked open. She jerked sideways, her arm rising to shield herself, her foot lifting to lash out. Before she could make contact, a body pinned her and a hand reached across her, ripping out the keys. The scream that formed in her throat was swallowed as she met a steely pair of blue eyes. He moved back but not before redirecting her foot to the floor mat. Her hand instinctively wrapped around the flash drive and slipped it into her pocket. Feeling faint with relief, she slumped back. Her door slammed and her would-be thief was soon around the car and opening the passenger side. Sliding into the seat, Guy closed the door, leaned back and glared at her.

  Too tired to move, she rolled her head sideways to meet the glower, but neither spoke. She waited him out. After a moment, she raised her eyebrows.

  He folded his arms across his chest and turned to look out the window. “Who was the guest at your house?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t ask me, ‘what?’ You heard me.”

  “What were you doing there?”

  “Looking for you.”

  Since he wasn’t looking at her, she took the time to study him. He definitely had the cute bad boy down pat; all dressed in black with his leather coat and his windblown hair falling over one eye. The scruffy beard was almost going too far.

  “I don’t know who he was. I thought maybe he was a friend of yours.”

  That brought his piercing gaze around to hers. His jaw clenched. “Aren’t we funny? I never sent him but someone did. Any ideas?”

  That had been her thought as well, but that didn’t mean she had to play nice. The lack of knowledge scared her more than she cared to admit, and a shiver began as a fine vibration shimmying down her spine. “What makes you think he wasn’t just a random burglar?”

  “Too much that was ransacked was left behind for him to be a burglar. And before you say he could have been looking for drugs, I met your friend at the door. Since I got up close and personal with him, I would agree that he was the slime of the earth. But I don’t think that getting high, was what motivated that break in.”

  “How’d you f
ind me?”

  “I’ve been following you ever since you left Lund’s. Didn’t know I was behind you, did you?”

  Fear shook her body as though she were in arctic weather. Without questioning the cause, Guy smoothly slid the key into the ignition and started the car, turning the heat on full.

  “Thanks.” She rested her forehead on the side window, staring out at a black night the muted streetlights vainly tried to penetrate. A dark shape, crouched low, before shooting up and scrambled over a fence and then reappeared climbing over another one as he traveled through one back yard after another. Startled, she sat up but strained to keep her focus on where she’d last seen him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Not bothering to look at him turned out to be a mistake. His warm breath brushed the back of her ear as he looked over her shoulder. She suppressed the shiver of excitement that tickled her nerve endings as she pointed off to the right.

  “Someone is running through yards. Watch, you’ll see him in a moment between the gray house and the blue one. He’ll scramble over the hedge between the yards.”

  A few seconds later a person did exactly that. A thin strip on the neck of the hood glowed in the dark.

  “The guy who visited you tonight had on a hoodie, right?”

  “Yes.” Forgetting he was so close, she whipped around and they literally ended up nose to nose. She froze.

  “I figured we’d end up like this.”

  Trying not to breathe in his tantalizing male scent, her eyes opened wide.

  “Nose to nose that is. You like to get your way and I like to get mine.”

  Exhaling slowly, she eased back. “Are you suggesting that’s the guy who was at my place?” She inclined her head in the direction of their night crawler.

  Guy nodded.

  “What the hell’s going on? My life was normal.” She ignored the twinge of guilt her remark elicited. “Until you barged in, telling me I’m someone else.” Her hand flipped up to stop his quick retort. “What you’ve said doesn’t make sense. Please don’t. I don’t want to hear it again.”