Andy Nolan was coming home!
* * *
Sara shook her head to clear her thoughts. She cleared her throat and wiped at her eyes. She knew Bella’s last name. Ames. She’d find a way to locate her through her driver’s license. Or hire a private detective.
Sara stepped through the door when she saw the town car pull up to the side door of the Tulsa International Airport, where she was waiting. She gave the driver the address of the Commodore Hotel on Evergreen Avenue. She was here for two days; then she was heading back to Virginia. Finally, she would be free of the Nolans once and for all. Just one more meeting with their lawyers, sign another batch of papers, accept the generous check, and she was done with this hateful place. She made a promise to herself never to return. This place, this entire state, was going to be erased from her memory.
Sara stared out the side window as the driver skillfully steered the town car past the line of Ubers waiting to pick up their fares. She spotted the two ladies ahead of her in line who had been talking about her. Who were they? Why were they here? she wondered.
She felt frazzled now, out of sorts. When she got like this, she knew she had to find a quiet place, a place with a Zen-like atmosphere, where she could zone out and think and project. For some reason, she felt frightened, uneasy. The last time she’d felt like this, she’d been eight years old. She knew she needed to find that space as soon as possible before she lost control.
* * *
Annie looked over at Myra just as she stepped into the waiting Uber. “I think this is a big mistake. What’s wrong with the two of us? We don’t seem to be able to make up our minds about anything since we got here. I thought we came to the airport to get on my plane to go back to Pinewood after deciding not to go to the hotel. I even called Peter. Then we decided to go to the hotel instead to talk to Avery Snowden. What we know, which is not all that much, we can tell him in a phone call. I think we should go to the plane and head home. What do you think?”
“I’m okay with that, Annie. I was more or less thinking the same thing. Tell the driver to take us to the hangar where your plane is instead of the hotel.” Annie did just that; then she called the pilot and told him to get the plane ready. She listened to him gripe and grumble about the cost of fuel and sitting on the runway and then canceling and the tower bitching at him in five different languages.
Annie grinned at Myra, and said, “Not to worry, Peter, we’ll sit in that crummy lounge and wait for you to call us. Things happen, you know how it is,” she said airily.
“I hope he doesn’t quit on you. No one likes a show-off, Annie,” Myra said.
“Peter won’t quit. He’s been with me forever. I’m his son’s godmother. He hates burning fuel, he’s very frugal, and maintaining a plane is a high-dollar enterprise. He’s just a little too conscientious sometimes.”
It was the Uber driver who started to snipe and snarl when he realized how very close his destination was and that he wouldn’t make any money on the ride. Annie apologized and slipped him a fifty-dollar bill. The driver looked at the crisp bill and grimaced. “We’re not permitted to accept tips.” Annie rolled her eyes and dropped the bill on the front passenger seat when the car came to a full stop at the private hangar.
Annie bounced out of the car, Myra hot on her heels. They headed for the lounge, where Myra ordered two double Kentucky bourbons on the rocks.
“Attagirl, Myra!” Annie held her glass aloft. “Cheers!”
Chapter 11
Myra and Annie ran from the car, the ferocious October wind propelling them forward. They could hear the dogs inside barking an early greeting.
“No place like home,” Myra gasped, as she tried to hold down her skirt and fight the wind at the same time. She was struggling to take a deep breath when she finally managed to open the door.
“You got that right, my friend. Thanks for letting me stay with you. I hate staying in that big house all by myself when Fergus is away. I think I spend more time here than at home,” Annie grumbled, as she did her best to finger-comb her wiry curls.
“When are you going to marry that man, Annie?”
Annie mumbled a response that the wind carried away. It didn’t matter, since Annie’s answer was always the same. “When the time is right I’ll know it, and the time isn’t right yet.” And that was the end of that, so Myra didn’t bother to ask her to repeat her mumbled answer.
Inside the kitchen, the dog-sitter moved to the side so the dogs could go through their welcoming routine, which was to drop to the floor and roll around so they could lick the women to unconsciousness before they responded by tickling them in all their sweet spots. The dog-sitter, Artie, who happened to work for Myra’s veterinarian, timed the reunion. Ten minutes to the second.
Myra clapped her hands for the dogs to settle down, and handed out treats. She listened to the dog-sitter’s report, which wasn’t really a report because all he said was, everything is and was fine, and there were no glitches. He accepted his pay and waved airily, calling over his shoulder, “Call me if you need me.” Myra said she would.
“It’s only seven thirty, Myra. Coffee or wine. Or how about two fingers of that fine Kentucky bourbon you have stashed in the cabinet.”
“I’ll get the ice,” Myra said.
“Attagirl, Myra.”
Once they were seated at the kitchen table, Annie leaned forward. “I think we’re slipping, old girl. We came home with nothing. How can that be, Myra? I hate it when we draw a blank the way we did. Makes me start to doubt our capabilities, and yet we covered all the bases.”
“There wasn’t anything else to get, Annie. What there was to get we got. You can’t get information, facts, details out of a rock. We did our best. You talked to Avery. He’s not doing any better than we did, and he’s a spy. And his people are trained investigators. I know this is going to sound . . . oh, I don’t know, maybe crazy or bizarre, but you don’t think she, meaning Sara, would . . . you know . . . go after Bella and maybe try to . . . to . . . do something to her, do you? She has to know by now that Bella either found out or would find out about the transfer of eggs and start to question the military about her husband’s insurance and his back pay and . . . and everything that goes on when there’s a death.”
Annie drained her glass of the hundred-proof bourbon, topped off Myra’s, then poured more into her glass. “I’ve more or less been wondering the same thing, Myra, but I didn’t want to say it out loud. Maybe we should have her move out here to the farm until we can resolve this. The question is, how do you feel about that? This is your house. She was a sweet girl. I don’t think she’d give you an ounce of trouble.”
“I’m more than okay with that,” Myra said. “We should run the idea by the others, but we can’t do that until tomorrow. We’ll call a mid-morning meeting. Maybe by then, we’ll have heard something from Avery. I’m going to go upstairs and take a shower. How about you call Isabelle and the others to see if she found anything in her hacking. Maggie, too. I won’t be long.”
Annie nodded agreeably as she reached for the bottle of bourbon. She was feeling no pain, as well as downright happy, which always happened when she drank good bourbon. She pressed the number 4 for Isabelle’s number on her smartphone and waited for her to pick up.
Outside, Annie could hear the wind whistling in the eaves over the kitchen. She felt a moment of panic as Lady got up and walked over to the door, stood still, and listened, then lay down on the carpet. She gave a soft woof to let Annie know things were all right. Annie sighed with relief as she waited for Isabelle to pick up, which she did on the fourth ring.
“You’re back home already! What happened?” Isabelle queried.
“Nothing. At least nothing that can help us. We met the Nolans’ best friends. No help there. Couldn’t find out anything on Sara that we didn’t already know. Avery might have found out something since we last spoke to him, but he has had as much luck as we did. We just decided we weren’t needed, that Avery could h
andle whatever there is to handle by himself. We’d just be in the way. I was hoping you would have something to report.”
“I want to go on record right now and say this whole thing is out-and-out crazy. I hate dealing with the military. They do not like the way civilians look at things or do things. They’re very rigid. And . . . they are not cooperative, but I had Abner’s friend Phil help me. He zipped through those records and files in nothing flat. How about if I bring it all out to the farm in the morning. Maggie called earlier and said she had some stuff, too, so we thought we’d come together once Myra sent a text saying you two were on your way home. I’m bushed, Annie, I just want to go to bed now, okay?”
“Absolutely. I’ll call the others and we’ll meet up around eleven. I’ll have someone bring lunch. Does that work for you?”
“Right now it sure does. Glad you and Myra made it home safe and sound. Annie, that woman Sara, she’s bad news. Really bad news. Don’t laugh at me and don’t call me paranoid, but I think we need to put Bella in protective custody. In other words, our protective custody. I just have a bad feeling, and I can’t shake it. So that has to mean it’s serious.”
“Dear, I would never laugh at you. Myra and I just had that very discussion not ten minutes ago. We agree with you about Bella. We’ll take care of it.”
“Okay. Good night then.”
“Good night, Isabelle,” Annie said softly. “Sleep well.”
* * *
Bella looked around her tidy apartment before she slipped into her navy-blue blazer. Taking Myra and Annie’s advice, she had gotten herself three part-time jobs, just to keep busy and help with the bills until she could move to North Carolina. Today was her day to work a three-hour midday shift at the Guest Quarters hotel chain. She actually liked the job and the interaction with the guests, and the time passed quickly. The pay was decent, too, for a part-time temporary job. None of the three part-time jobs gave her much time to think about her life and her current problems. She still cried herself to sleep every night, but she knew that eventually her crying jags would stop and her pillow would be dry in the morning. Time. Everything took time. She blinked away the threatened tears just as her doorbell rang.
Alarm coursed through her body. No one knew where she was. No one. Well, that wasn’t quite true. Her new best friends who were helping her knew, but they also said they would never seek her out without calling first. And then at nine this morning Myra Rutledge had called and said she wanted her to pack her things and move out to the farm for the time being, which meant she was going to have to give up her three part-time jobs with little to no notice. She had agreed to do it, and her bag was packed and sitting by the door. She explained that today she couldn’t leave the hotel on such short notice and would drive out after her shift was over.
So who was knocking on her door?
Bella tiptoed over to the door and looked through the peephole. Her eyes widened in shock. Dr. Martin Peabody from the fertility clinic!
Open the door? Don’t open the door?
Bella threw caution to the wind and opened the door. She didn’t say a word, she simply stared at the fussy little man with the owlish glasses standing in front of her. Finally, she found her voice. “Give me one good reason not to call the police right now.”
Peabody shook his head. “If I could, I would, but I can’t. I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes if you have time. Please, I want to help you and myself at the same time. Won’t you at least hear me out?”
The man was whining. If there was one thing in this life Bella couldn’t stand, it was a whiny man. So unmanly. “All right, ten minutes. I have to go to work. Why are you here, what do you want from me? Haven’t you and your people made my life miserable enough? Tell me what you want before I decide if you are harassing me.”
“I came here to talk to you on my own behalf and on behalf of my partners. I’m here to ask you to please not initiate litigation proceedings. We really did nothing wrong. And even you must admit that. There was no way for any of us to know your husband’s sister was impersonating you. No way on this earth. She had your driver’s license. She had a copy of your electric bill with your name on it. She had a library card with your name and address on it, plus two of your credit cards. She also had a copy of . . . of your husband’s death certificate. That was the clincher for us. That woman even showed us canceled checks that you wrote to us for storage. No one ever looks like they really look on their driver’s license. The picture on the license was close enough to the license we had on file from when you first came to us. As I said, the likeness was satisfactory. Wigs, makeup these days can alter anyone’s appearance.”
He blathered on, then took off his glasses to wipe them on a tissue he pulled out of his pocket, at the same time taking a long, deep breath. “Well, not the actual checks but photocopies. As Dr. Petre said, giving her the eggs was a no-brainer.
“Everyone knows going to court is a crapshoot. You will have the sympathy of the court and a jury because your husband was killed in the line of duty. They won’t care that we did it all by the book; their sympathy will be with you. We know this. That means you could very well end up owning the clinic we’ve all worked and slaved over for the last thirty years. We have an impeccable reputation. Please don’t do this to us. If it’s about money for you, we talked it over and we’re all willing to take out bank loans to pay you.”
Bella shook her head. “I don’t want your money. This was never about money. I can’t believe you’re asking me to just drop this. Just drop it! I. Don’t. Think. So!”
“If I could tell you where your eggs are currently stored, would you consider changing your mind? If I could tell you what kind of car your impersonator drives and give you the license plate of her car, would you reconsider?”
Bella bounced to her feet, her face full of rage. “Are you sitting there on my sofa, in my apartment, telling me you have this information and you withheld it from me? That is out-and-out blackmail. Is that what you’re telling me? Why? Why would you do such a thing?” Bella was screaming at the top of her lungs.
Dr. Martin Peabody closed his eyes and sighed. “Fear mostly. Some greed if we’re being honest. A lot of people would be out of a job. Dr. Petre just bought into the business, using her life savings. She would be wiped out, just as we all would if you won your lawsuit, which we all think you would. I’m being as honest as I can be here. Like I said, a jury would be sympathetic to you and we know it. I came here to ask you to please, have your lawyers reconsider. They’re bound by law to do whatever you tell them to do. We can’t unring the bell, Mrs. Nolan. What’s done is done, and we did go by the book. We really did.”
“You knew, and you never said anything,” Bella screeched.
“No! No! Good God, no! I just happened to be looking out my window the day the woman posing as you followed the specially equipped van that transported your eggs. I’ve seen that same scenario dozens of times. I didn’t think anything of it. I was actually thinking about taking my grandson fishing the next day because it was my day off. It barely registered at the time. At the time,” he repeated. “Then when you showed up and told us your story, the fear kicked in, and I just kept quiet. I will admit to that and own it. I’m sorry for that. I really am. No one knows about this but me. I came here on my own.”
Bella wanted to scream again at the top of her lungs, but her throat felt scratchy from the last time she’d let loose. She bit down on her tongue and warned herself to remain calm. She took a giant deep breath, and said, “So now you’re here to blackmail me. You’ll give me the information you withheld if I don’t sue you. Do I have that right?”
Peabody nodded miserably. “Sadly, yes. But if you don’t agree, then I’ll deny it.”
“I could turn you over to the police right now.”
“Yes, you could,” Peabody said. “And I would still deny it. Where is your proof I said any such thing to you? I’m desperate, Mrs. Nolan. The entire staff, the partners are despera
te. And our clients . . . I shudder to think what they will think or do.
“At least think about it and get back to me. I don’t want to keep you; you did say you had to go to work. I appreciate your talking to me at all. I thought for sure you’d slam the door in my face. I would, however, just like to leave you with a thought. The people who work for me at the clinic, most of them have been with me since we opened thirty years ago. They depend on their jobs, they have families. They have kids in school, kids in college, two of my staff have severely challenged children, and taking care of them is costly. They need their jobs. What happened was an honest mistake, no one person’s fault. That woman had everything she needed to steal your property. Please be honest with yourself even though you are hurting right down to your very soul. Please, get back to me once you speak with your attorneys. Thank you for your time; I can see myself out.”
And then he was gone, and Bella was alone to ponder the man’s words. He knew how to get in touch with the woman who stole her eggs, most likely Andy’s sister. It wasn’t the money, she didn’t care two figs about that, she just wanted her eggs, and Dr. Martin Peabody knew where they were. Give a little, get a little. Just the thought of a lawsuit was like a kick in the gut. She knew she didn’t have the stomach for that, and she did sympathize with the staff at the clinic.
Bella looked at her watch. She was going to be late. She sent off a text and asked the front-end manager if he still wanted her to come in since it would take her a good thirty minutes to get there depending on traffic, and she was already late to begin with. She was told to come in as soon as she could get there.
The urge to Lysol her tiny space engulfed her, but she shook away the urge and left the apartment, careful to lock the door. And then she put a loose thread at the bottom of the door. She’d read about that once in a spy novel. This way, if the thread was disturbed when she got back, she’d know someone was either in her apartment waiting for her with harm in mind, or someone had already been inside and robbed her. She wished she had done that at her old apartment before Sara Windsor Nolan had obviously invaded her space to obtain copies of all those documents she used at the clinic. Somehow, Sara had entered Bella’s apartment, probably picked the lock, then went through all her things and took what she wanted. God in heaven, how did Andy ever get a sister like Sara Windsor? That was the thing, though, she wasn’t a blood sister.
Truth and Justice Page 12