Blind Faith (23 page)

"I don't know what to think. Nick is a very persuasive man, and he makes a compelling case, but his hatred for
Syd
is so fierce, at times I wonder if he's being rational."

"He has good instincts, Kelly. You told me so yourself."

Kelly looked up from her plate. "You didn't think so yesterday."

Victoria
shrugged. "Just because I don't agree with his theory about Jonathan's phone call doesn't mean that I don't respect his judgment."

She smiled.
"Most of the time."

The waitress arrived with their food. Once again, Kelly waited until she was gone before speaking. "So, you still want Nick to help find Jonathan?
Even though he's been suspended?"

"Absolutely."
She speared a flaky piece of halibut with her fork. "I trust him, Kelly. You should, too."

The ring of a cell phone interrupted their conversation. Out of habit, Kelly reached for hers, but it was
Victoria
's. During the brief discussion,
Victoria
said nothing, murmuring only a weak "thank you" at the end.

When she looked at Kelly, her eyes were glistening.

"Detective Quinn."
Tears ran down her cheeks-tears of joy, judging from her luminous smile. "The teeth on that burned body don't match Jonathan's dental record." Her hand gripped Kelly's so hard she was afraid
Victoria
would break it. "He's alive,
Kel
," she said in a fierce whisper. "I knew it. My husband is alive."

Twenty-Eight.

Syd
Webber's voice was filled with concern. "Kelly, I just heard the news on the radio. Are you all right?"

Switching the phone to her left ear, Kelly drove out of the restaurant's parking lot and turned left on
Manning Street
. "Perfect," she said curtly. "Thanks for asking."

"I also found out you had been the victim of vandalism over the last few weeks. Why didn't you tell me?"

At her request, and with Nick's help, the vandalism hadn't been made public. How had
Syd
found out?
"Because that's my business,
Syd
, not yours."

"I could have had you protected."

"How?
By putting a three-hundred-pound bouncer outside my door?"

"If that's what it takes."

"I don't think so,
Syd
. My neighbors wouldn't take kindly to that sort of disruption. But thanks for the offer."

"If you won't take my help, then let me take you out to lunch." His tone turned playful. "You owe me a rain check, remember?"

"Sorry, I'm busy."

"With what?
You're no longer investigating Jonathan's disappearance, are you? Not now that his wife heard from him."

So he knew about that, too. His private news network was even more efficient than she had realized. "Don't believe everything you hear,
Syd
."

There was a slight pause. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing.
Look,
Syd
, I've got to go."

"You're upset with me. I can hear it in your voice. What is it, Kelly?

What have I done?"

Kelly let out a short, brittle laugh. "I don't believe you. You really don't know?"

"Okay, I'll tell you. I didn't appreciate you going to the police commissioner and having Nick
Mcbride
suspended. That was low,
Syd
."

"I had no say on
Mcbride's
suspension. The commissioner acted
on his own, with no prompting from me
."

"And just what did you expect he would do? Give Nick a slap on the wrist? No,
Syd
. You knew exactly what would happen. That's why you went to the commissioner and not to Cross."

"For Christ's sake, the man wouldn't leave me alone. Was I supposed to let him walk all over me? Sorry, Kelly, that's not my style."

"Obviously not.
Goodbye,
Syd
."

"Kelly, wait! Let's talk about this."

She pressed the off button.

* * *

Alan Braden stretched his long legs in front of him and took the can of Samuel Adams Nick offered him. A few months shy of his sixtieth birthday, the private investigator looked ten years younger, with brown hair worn in an old-fashioned buzz cut and sharp hazel eyes. At six-four, he was too tall for a man whose profession required total anonymity, but somehow he managed to get the job done. The two men had met several years ago, during a crime spree that had spread along the entire East Coast, and had been friends ever since.

"Give me good news, Alan." Nick sat down and took a sip of his beer.

Alan laughed. "I'll start with the good and save the bad for last.

First of all, you were right. That photograph on
Magdalena
's mantel is a phony. These days, thanks to computer technology, pictures can be doctored fairly easily, with a minimum of know-how. You can put two people in the same shot in about two seconds, using special software."

Alan nodded. "The man I took the photo to could tell right away. The first giveaway was the different light on the subjects. There was also a fine crop mark in the middle. You can't see it with the naked eye, but it's there."

Nick nodded. "Good work, Alan." He let a few seconds tick by.
"And the bad news?"

"
Magdalena
is gone. She skipped town in the middle of the night."

Nick sat up. "What the hell do you mean she skipped town? You told me you were putting your best operatives on her."

"I did. She must have suspected she was being watched. Or maybe she was just being cautious. John had the second shift and was in his car all night. He never saw her coming out of the building."

"John talked to the maid, Marisol, but she was as surprised as he was.

She arrived this morning and found
Magdalena
gone. No note, no special outgoing message on the answering machine.
Nada."

Nick moved over to the window. A light snow had begun to fall, sticking to the little patch of grass outside his northeast
Philadelphia
home. It would change to rain soon, before another storm front moved in.

"Somebody must have called her, told her the heat was on."

"They didn't do it through the house phone. The only calls that came through that one were from her masseur, her hairdresser and a couple of girlfriends calling to make a lunch date."

"Nope.
I'm sorry. Nick. We should have been more careful."

Nick shook his head. "It's not your fault. She gave you no reason to suspect she'd do something like that."

"I can find her if you want me to."

"No, that's all right. Let those bastards think they're safe. It will make my job easier if they're not on their guard."

"You'll let me know if you need
me?
" Nick nodded.
"When the time comes."
After Alan left.
Nick called Quinn to tell him about
Magdalena
's quick exit and found he already knew.

As in all bombing cases, the FBI had now taken over the investigation and one of the first persons they had wanted to question was
Magdalena
.

They never got a chance.

Nick walked back to the table where Alan had left his typed report and sat down to read it.

Kelly's first call when she returned home from her lunch with
Victoria
was to Nick. "I thought you might need a little cheering up."

"You heard."

"No thanks to you. Nick. You should have told me."

"You have enough problems of your own."

"And this is one of them. I feel responsible. If I hadn't gone out with
Syd
, none of this would have happened. I'm so sorry. Nick."

She heard him chuckle. "I was suspended, Kelly, not terminated."

His good humor was contagious. "Does that mean you don't need cheering up?"

"Depends.
What did you have in mind?"

"Are you playing hard to get?"

"No, I just like to know what I'm getting into, that's all."

"Smart-ass."
She matched his playful tone. "Just for that I should withdraw the invitation."

"To dinner.
At
San
Remo
.
I tried to bail you out of it, but my mother wouldn't let me."

"Good woman, your mother. I'm cheered up already."

"Good." Kelly's teakettle let out a loud whistle and she walked over to the stove to take it off the burner. "I had lunch with
Victoria
earlier.
 
While we ate.
Detective Quinn called."

"He told
Victoria
. She's ecstatic. Nick. That call made her even more convinced that she and Jonathan will be able to work things out." She dropped a tea bag into a mug and poured hot water over it. "I'm afraid she's setting herself up for a bad fall."

"You mean if Jonathan is dead."

Nick was the only person with whom she could openly discuss this depressing possibility. "He would never treat
Victoria
that way if he was alive."

She heard him sigh. "I don't know him, so I can't comment one way or another, but I agree it doesn't look good for him, now less than ever."

"Alan Braden, the private investigator I hired, just left my house. The photo on
Magdalena
's mantel is a fake. Beyond that, she left town in the middle of the night, destination and duration of her trip unknown."

Kelly's cup hit the tiled counter so hard that tea spilled over. The dancer had lied to her--to all of them--after all.
But why?
And equally important, who was behind that elaborate scheme? "Will you try to find her?"

"The feds will do a better job of that than I would. Besides, I'd rather concentrate on Enrique.
But not tonight."
She heard the smile in his voice. "Tonight I'd rather concentrate on you."

Kelly's heart picked up a beat. "You might be disappointed."

He laughed, as if remembering some private secret. "Not a chance. What time do I pick you up?"

"It'd be too much out of your way," Kelly replied. "Meet me at
San
Remo
instead.
Around seven?"

"Seven it is."

"And bring your appetite. My uncle is cooking."

Standing in the bedroom, Kelly studied her reflection in the full-length mirror and made a face. If blue was her color, as
Victoria
claimed, then why did this dress, for which she had paid a fortune, make her look so washed-out and prim?

It's the neckline, she decided, her fingers running over the demure boat neck It just wasn't ... sexy enough. The word brought a smile to her lips. Since when did she try and look sexy for Nick
Mcbride
? Rather than answer the question, she unzipped the dress and started nipping through her closet again in search of something a little more appropriate for tonight's occasion--like a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

Her fingers stopped on a black dress she had worn at the Sanders' thirtieth wedding anniversary party last December. It was close-fitting without being tight, with spaghetti straps and a low square neckline that made her small breasts look bigger.

She turned to check her profile in the cheval mirror. Was Nick partial to big breasts, she wondered, or small ones? Small ones, she decided with a nod. After all, she hadn't seen any disappointment on his face the other morning when he had caught her naked in her bedroom.
Just lust.

She let the blue dress slide off her body and slipped into the black sheath. Then, standing back, she nodded approvingly. Nick would definitely prefer this dress. It was a tad much for
San
Remo
, but so what? It wasn't every day that she went out with a hunk like Nick
Mcbride
.

Suddenly feeling as giddy as a young girl on her first date, Kelly picked up the bottle of Magic Noire from her dresser, sprayed a little of the intoxicating fragrance behind her ears and walked out of the room.

* * *

Kelly had barely come through the kitchen's swinging door when her uncle lifted her off the floor and spun her around as easily as he used to when she was a little girl.

"Uncle Gino!" She laughed hysterically. "Put me down."

"Say pr ego She laughed harder, remembering their old game
. "
Prego."

He set her down and held her at arm's length. "Your mother was right.

You are too beautiful for words."

"So are you."

She meant it. At sixty-two, Gino
Robolo
was still a handsome man, with big, laughing brown eyes and that thick
Robolo
hair, though his had turned snow white years ago.
Seeing him here, in her father's old apron, brought a wave of memories.
She could still see the two brothers in this very kitchen, looking over each other's shoulder, smelling, tasting and arguing whether or not to put a pinch of sugar in the tomato sauce or how long the
osso
buco
should cook.