and along came SPIDER ( A Martina Spalding Thriller ) (Spider Series Book 1) (13 page)

CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO

After Dunbar left,
Martina and Gloria sat on the couch and had a long cry, on each other’s
shoulder.

“I feel so guilty,”
Gloria said, between sobs.  “It was
all
my
fault
! 
If I hadn’t gone to Hannity’s and gotten drunk, none of this would have
happened.”

“Yes.  And if Lenny
wouldn’t have called the police, they’d be alive and we’d be dead.  Please
don’t blame yourself, Gloria.  We have too much to do, for that.”

“What…?” Gloria said,
pulled away and glared at her.  “What are you thinking, Martina?” 

Marti got off the couch
and went to pour the tea.  “I don’t know.  But I’m not going to just sit around
waiting for him to kill you — me — or someone else
again!  He’s got to be stopped, once and for all.”

“You’re that sure it’s
him…  Raym?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess so.  I
mean, who else could it be, right?”

“If you’re not sure,
Gloria, then you had better tell me now?”

“Okay, I’m sure,” she
said, folding her arms under her breasts, uneasy about what Martina may do.

“Good.”  Marti sat two
cups of tea on the table and went back to the kitchen for the bottle of
brandy.  “Now what we need is a plan.”  She poured some brandy into her
steaming cup and sat the bottle down uncapped, in case Gloria wanted some. 

She didn’t.  She wanted
to be aware enough to reject any plan Martina may come up with, if that
included killing Raym.  Not that he didn’t deserve to die.  Perhaps he did.  It
was just that it wasn’t in her to be a party to such a thing.  She wasn’t a
killer, and never would be.  That’s why her carrying the Beretta was so silly. 
She knew all along she would rather die than pull the trigger.  On anybody.

“First off, I need to
know Raym’s daily routine?” Marti started.

“Well, he goes to
work…”

“Every day?”

“Yes.  Every day,”
Gloria said.  “His father insists on it.  There’s a strategy conference with
the sales staff for an hour or so, at nine every morning.  And since Raym is
the vice president in charge of sales, he needs to be there.”

“What, exactly, do they
sell?”

“Lots.  Lots and lots
of building lots, both residential and commercial.  And they’ve been doing it
for near a hundred years.”

“Are they still selling
parts of that original ranch, I heard about from Gwyn Raizel?”

“The vast majority of
that, except for the family cemetery and original ranch stead, has been gone
for decades.  However, thanks to some smart thinking on the part of a distant
grandfather, they won’t run out of land to sell any time soon.  He devised a
system they call, ‘Leap Frog.’  As land is sold close in for a premium price,
other replacement land is purchased further out, for less.  Therefore, as the
city grows, there’s always Koffee land, just waiting to be chopped into more
lots.  Ingenious, don’t you think?” Gloria said proudly, as if still a member
of the family.

“Very,” Marti agreed. 
“What about the present wife?  Does she work?”

“She’s his secretary
now.  Poor girl couldn’t hold a respectable job, so Raym started taking her to
work with him.  I guess she answers the phone when he’s not there.  I don’t
think she can even type.” Gloria said with a sour expression.

“Can you give me a
layout of the Koffee building?  Where his office is, in there?  And the
location of the room where they hold the morning conference?  What about
security, do they have…?”

“Why do you want to
know all of that?” Gloria asked.

“Because I want to play
with
his
mind a little… like he’s playing with ours.  Go on the aggressive.  Make him
start looking over his shoulder.  Make him wonder if, perhaps,
his
life is in danger, for a change.”

“You sure you’re up to
that?”

“Oh, I’m up to it,
alright!”  Marti cracked a smile.  “I ought to tell you about what I did to
some of my high school tormentors.  It wasn’t pretty.  Come to think of it,
maybe that’s partly the reason I got zero date offers throughout the four
years.”

Gloria smiled back. 
“What did you do?”  She was anxious for a good laugh in her sorry state of
mind.

“Well, I’ll give you a
hint.  I got good at injecting a few drops of jalapeño juice into foil condom
wrappers, without it being detectable.”

“Oh my God!  Then
what?”

“I think you can figure
out the rest.  Now, get some paper and draw me a diagram.”

“No, I can’t… figure it
out.  Tell me?”

“Okay… on one occasion I
slipped a note, along with the doctored condom, into a guy’s desk, that read:
“Meet me under the left field bleachers of the baseball field, at lunch break. 
Be ready, I won’t have much time.”  I then signed it with the name of the best
looking girl in class.  She was a virgin, but a real prick teaser.  Every guy
in the senior class, without a doubt, wanted to be the first with her.”

“Okay.  Then what?”
Gloria said anxiously.

“God, can’t you figure
anything out for yourself…?  Okay, he went there as instructed, and, of course,
he made himself ready.  Well, to make a long story short; did you ever see a
guy try to run across a school yard with his pants down to his knees?  There
was no water hydrant at the baseball field, and believe me, he needed to wash badly. 
There were even some vocals, as I recall.  I think it went something like
this:  Ahhhhhheeeeee!  Ahhhhheeeee! as he hopped and skipped along.”

Gloria laughed
heartily.  Marti, however, didn’t join in.  She was too serious about her
planned endeavor to be amused by that old childhood prank, she had replayed in
her mind so many times over the years in moments of reflection.  What she had
planned for Raym Koffee, however, was much more devious.  Perhaps it would even
be deadly — for one of them.

Once getting the
diagram of the second floor, where Raym’s office and such was located, Martina
made the suggestion that they both get some sleep.  Tomorrow was another work
day, albeit hers didn’t start until four pm.

The following morning,
as it was the previous morning, they again went for breakfast at the diner
before going to Spencer House to settle Gloria in for the day.  From there,
Marti headed directly back to the apartment.  She had things to do there before
going on with her plan.  One was to strap on the Beretta.  Another was to
change into the sexiest day dress she owned.  It was a shapely, button to the
neck one piece in black satin, with sleeves.

Coming back down, she
went to the spot where the police car had been the night before.  Looking for
blood, she found none on the concrete, anywhere.  Nonetheless, she made a vow
to Ben Ripley, wherever his spirit may be, to avenge his death, or die trying. 
Then, after another moment of reflection, she moved on to her car in the
parking lot, got in and started it.  The box containing Gloria’s red night
dress still lay on the opposite seat.  That somehow reminded her of Parker. 
Today, the poor man would just have to wait until later to be blessed with her
company.  She smiled pleasantly, with just the thought of him.  He did love her
kisses.  She could tell.  He almost always became erect under the sheets from
them.  But it seemed not to embarrass, or prompt him to hide it in any way. 
Were all men like that?  How could she know, she thought remorsefully?  She pulled
the car out onto the street.

Twenty minutes later
she was pulling up in front of the coffee shop across from the Koffee
Building.  She sat in the car for a few moments in an effort to calm
herself — which failed miserably — then bravely crossed
the street.  After a quick walk to the parking lot to loosen the valve cores on
the two rear tires of a particular vehicle, using the slotted
caps — which she tossed away thereafter — she rounded
to the front of the building.

A musty smell smacked
her in the face as she entered.  This brought her grandparents’ hundred year
old farmhouse to mind.  She took a moment there, giving her eyes time to adjust
to the change in light.  To the left, a staircase came into view, just where
Gloria said it would be.  Reluctantly, she went to it and began to climb.  The
stairs creaked with every step she took and this further unnerved her.  She
heard a typewriter clicking away somewhere, but didn’t know from where: up or
downstairs.  Finally, at the top, she stopped and listened a bit.  There were
voices to be heard now, but distant and muffled.  Moving on slowly, more creaks
gave her presence away.  However, she kept going, and even picked up her pace a
bit.  Her hand slipped into the small purse she carried and her fingers touched
the Savage 32 semi-automatic pistol there, but she did not grasp it.  Just
knowing it was handy was comforting enough for now.  Then there was the Beretta
on her leg, for backup.  She wasn’t expecting to have to use that today,
either.  But again, she was grateful to have it along, as well.

Reaching an open
doorway, Marti was immediately noticed by a mousey looking blond at a desk
inside.  “May I help you?” the woman asked.  No doubt it was Raym’s wife she
faced now.  She recognized her from the wedding picture in the newspaper
clipping Gwyn had shown her.  She thought her mousey looking then, and that
hadn’t changed any.  Her name was Sheela, with double E’s, as she recalled.

“I’m looking for
Raymond Koffee?” Marti asked, gripping the handbag and looking about.

“He’s in a meeting. 
Perhaps I can help you?”

“Well, it’s kind of
personal,” Marti said nervously.  She wasn’t faking it.  The truth of the
situation was enough to make her knees knock, just as they would have been if
her charade were true.  Maybe a little more.

“Personal?  In what
way?”  It was evident she had the wife’s full attention now.  Maybe she already
began to suspect that she wasn’t going to like what she heard.  “Please sit
down.”

“I guess… in a family
way,” Marti said.  “That might be a good way to put it.”  She sat uneasily on
the hard wooden chair before the desk.

“Are you saying you’re
pregnant?”  There was an edge to her voice now.  “You don’t look it.”

Marti nodded.  “The
doctor said, just a little.”  She flashed two fingers spaced about a half inch
apart.

“Who got you pregnant?”

“Raymond.  I mean, he
said he would marry me if that should ever happen.  So…”

“Are you sure you’re
talking about
Raym Koffee
?”

“Yes, ma’am.  That’s
him right there,” Marti pointed to a picture of Raym, at the side of the desk. 
It was turned her way enough to see it clearly.  Now the face before her turned
to pure anger, and the woman stood.

“And who’s that with
him, there in the picture… do you think?”

“Well, that looks a
little like you, ma’am,” Marti said, meekly.  It was the same wedding photo of
the two of them as was published in the newspaper, except in color.

“And why do you think
that is?” she said through clinched teeth.  Hissing!

“Don’t tell me you two
are married!”  Marti stood as well.  “Now what am I going to do?”  She faked
sobbing and covered her face with quivering hands.

“How do I know you’re
not lying, young lady?” Sheela asked.  “What proof do you have you’ve ever been
with him?  There are lots of women that would like to get their hands on some
of his money.”

With that, Marti
removed the hands and went for the clincher.  “He was with me just last night,
until the wee hours of the morning.  You must have known he was gone?”

“He said he’d been at
the club…” Sheela said, near under her breath.  Then, in three determined
steps, she rounded the desk and marched from the office.  Halfway down the hall
toward the conference room, she yelled, “Raym…!”  It was done with all the rage
a scorned wife could muster.

Frightened by it,
Martina froze for a second to gather her wits.  Removing her heels then, she
sprinted to the stairs, and once there, took those two at a time all the way
down.  Outside, she slipped the heels back on, and, dodging traffic, made it
across to her car.

Less than a minute later,
Raym bolted through the door.  He looked both ways — up and down
the sidewalk — then caught sight of her across the street, standing
boldly by the car.  With his jaw slack now and his eyes bulging with
recognition, he yelled, “You!”

Having accomplished
what she set out to do, Marti casually got into the car, started it, and drove
away.  In the side mirror, she saw Raym dashing toward the parking lot.  “Good
luck with that,” she said aloud, and accelerated.

A few moments later, to
her dismay, she saw a light blue Thunderbird in the rearview mirror.  It was
coming her way, a half block back.  Had she not loosened the valve cores
enough, she wondered?  It was only a faint hiss on each, she recalled.  She’d
figured that would flatten a tire the size of those on the ‘bird’ in fifteen
minutes.  What could’ve gone wrong?  But there he was nonetheless, near on her
now.