Designer Detective (A Fiona Marlowe Mystery) (23 page)

BOOK: Designer Detective (A Fiona Marlowe Mystery)
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“Now what?”
I said. “I
have my ticket to Australia. Opal is on her way to Oregon with the boys. The
estate may never be settled, but we don’t have to worry about that. We may
never know how Albert died. So we’re off the hook, as far as I can tell.”

“Not quite,” said Jake. “The rifles are missing,
and the bad guys are still looking for them, us and Cody.”

“Yes, but we can walk away,
and the mysterious confederation can take care of everything.”

“You can walk away. I have to live with Opal
and Cody. Opal doesn’t realize how bad the charges are going to be against Cody.
That might be for the best. I’m glad she’s leaving because she is forever
trying to protect him. I’m going to call the boys and see where they are.”

He flipped open his cell phone. I was envious.
Mine was smashed on the floor of the hotel room, and I hated deciding on a new
one, there are so many. Maybe I’d get an
IPhone
this
time.

“Where are you? Why are you going there? No, turn
around. You can’t take Opal to New York no matter what she says she wants to do.
You take her home, you hear? I know she’s your boss, but she has funny ideas
these days. It’s her medication.”

He closed the phone and laid it on the table. “Can
you believe Opal wants to see the Statue of Liberty?”

“She doesn’t get east that often. I can’t blame
her.”

Breakfast arrived and more coffee. We wolfed
down every last morsel. I smiled as I laid down my fork. I wanted to burp in
delight like the ancient Romans did after a meal to express their pleasure but
I restrained myself.

“Let’s go,” said Jake. “Maybe the traffic jam
is over by now. Hudson probably has an All Points Bulletin out on us.”

Outside the fog was clearing to reveal another
cloudy, overcast morning. We walked along the side street toward the traffic
jam. I heard footsteps and a man with a black goatee and shaved head fell in
beside us. He wore a sweat suit and looked like he might have been running.

“Another
lousy morning,” he said.

I nodded. “Out for a run?” I said, making polite
conversation.

“No, I dress this way all the time.
More comfortable.
I hate suits. My name is Ratko.”

There was no mistaking that name.

“Let’s go,” I said to Jake and tried to pull
him away.

Ratko grabbed my arm. “Hey, what’s the hurry,
Fiona? You and your friend, Jake, here have some talking to do.”

Jake took a good look at Ratko. “Do we know
you?”

“I do business with your buddy, Cody. But he
reneged on the bargain, and I’m here to collect.”

A dark green Cadillac Escalade SUV pulled in
front of us and stopped. Ratko opened the door. “Get in. We’re taking a little
ride.”

“What if we say we don’t want to take a ride?”
Jake said. “We got other commitments.”

Ratko pulled out a tiny silver gun and pointed
it at us from the fold of his jacket. “This little guy says you do want to. Now
get in.”

“Maybe we should talk this over.”

“I need action, not talking. You’re going to
take us to the rest of the rifles. Then we’ll talk about whether you get to
live.”

He tightened his grip on my arm and shoved me
in the back seat.

“Move over,” he said. “You, Jake, get in beside
her.”

Great, I thought. If he gets in the front seat,
then maybe we could fling ourselves from the car when it got underway. But then
I saw the two guys in the seat behind. They sported unfriendly faces.

Ratko slammed the door and got in front. The
driver slid away from the curb and into the line of traffic. Ratko turned to
look at us. “Tell us where to go because we are going to get those rifles.”

Jake said, matter-of-fact, “They’re in the back
shed at Albert’s house.”

A meteor from outer space could not have hit
with the force of that pronouncement. I nearly lost my grip on reality, not
that I ever had much of one. I shoved my face into Jake’s. “What are you
talking about?”

His eyes locked mine with a boa constrictor
grip. “I’m saying that I know where the rifles are at Albert’s. That’s what I’m
saying.”

I stayed eyeball to eyeball with him. Was he
telling me to play along or was he telling me the truth this time? But that had
been my problem all along, ever since I saw Albert Lodge stretched out on the floor
of his library. I didn’t know who was telling the truth.

Ratko said, “That’s what I like, a man who
knows how to cooperate. See Joey, I told you we’d get somewhere with the guy.
The girl’s a bimbo, but the guy I can like.” He grinned at me and turned around
to face the traffic.

Bimbo?
He referred to
me as a bimbo?

Joey turned onto a side road and through a
series of impressive side street short cuts made his way to McLean. The Cadillac
smelled new and was shiny inside. A GPS screen on the dashboard showed where we
were going and spoke directions in its metallic voice from time to time. Like
it was a normal day, Joey and Ratko talked about football, which teams they
liked and who was going to win tonight’s game.

I closed my eyes. Jake’s fingers touched mine.
I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or smack him. I hoped his gentle touch
meant that he knew what he was doing. I wondered where Hudson and Mike were.
Could they possibly have known that Ratko himself was afoot? I looked around to
see if I could see the gray Suburban that we should never have left. Maybe they
had seen us get in the Cadillac Escalade and were following. Not in sight. This
whole affair had been what I should have done. How was I to know? I was a
miserable failure as a detective. Jake’s fingers closed over mine, and I looked
at him. One of the guys in the back leaned forward and stuck a gun between our
heads.

“Better you should watch the scenery,” he said.

Those were pretty clear instructions. I
wondered what was going to happen when we got to Albert’s mansion. I wondered
if there was a guard on the place and what would happen then. I wondered where
Cody was and if Opal was going to New York or Oregon. And how did Jake know
where the guns were hidden?

At the
entrance to Albert’s place there was no guard, and we swung through the gate. The
front door was covered with police crime scene tape.

“Go to the back of the house where the garages
are,” said Jake.

He spoke with a confidence that impressed me. I
was sitting on knife points. Behind the house there was a line of outbuildings,
well maintained, not touched by the
fire.
The house
itself sported a charred hole in the roof that some fast thinking contractor had
put a bright blue tarp over. The manicured bushes and lawn in front were
trampled and broken. The back of the house looked undisturbed.

Ratko put his hand on Joey the driver’s arm.
“Hold up. Something’s not right here.
Too quiet.
This is
too enclosed. Someone could ambush us.”

Joey stopped the car and waited, engine
running. Ratko turned to Jake. “You and the boys get out. You show them where
the rifles are. The girl stays with us. Anything goes wrong, she’s dead. Understand?”

Jake nodded once slowly. He looked at me, and
our eyes held for an extra moment. I didn’t know if that was goodbye or trust
me. I was trying my best to come up with a plan of escape, feeling like a pawn,
wanting to be the queen. Jake got out and the two men in the seat behind us got
out with him. Ratko moved in beside me.

“Now, girlie.
You
behave real nice and nothing will happen to you. But if your man there doesn’t
come up with the rifles, we got serious trouble.”

Jake and the two men walked to the far end of
the lot. Half hidden in the shadows of a stand of tall pines was a low
building. A shutter hung loose, and the roof sagged. The scrub around it had
not been trimmed. Why had I never thought to come out here to sleuth? Why had
Jake never told me about this place? If Hudson had hidden the guns, and Jake
knew where the guns were, then Jake and Hudson were in cahoots. Why hadn’t I
figured this out before?

Jake opened the door of the shed and ducked in.
It hadn’t been locked. One of the men followed him in. The other stood outside,
watching with a drawn gun. Jake and the man came out of the shed. The man
looked in our direction and nodded his head.

 
Ratko
said, “Joey, call the office and have them get the truck on the road.
Looks like we’ve found the rest of the shipment.”

I said, “Aren’t you taking an awful chance
picking up rifles in broad daylight?”

Ratko gave me a stupid-broad look. “Not in a
furniture delivery truck.”

Clever.
Could I help I
was a bimbo?

Ratko got out. “Watch the girl, Joey. I’m going
to look around. There might be something else we need in this dump. Too bad the
old man had to go and die on us before we could blackmail him more. He was such
an easy squeeze.”

Ratko walked over and talked to Jake. Joey and
I sat in the car. The men disappeared from sight. We waited, my nerves fraying
into gossamer strands. Jake wouldn’t be able to help me, not surrounded by
three men with guns. It was now or never. Joey might think I was a bimbo, too.
I didn’t see a gun, though he must have had something concealed.

I leaned forward and said, “Joey, do you happen
to have a cigarette? I used up all of mine.”

“Sure, babe.
I was
just going to light up myself.”

He drew a half filled pack of Marlboro’s from
his jacket and shook out a few. I selected one. I hadn’t smoked in years, but
the idea of a cigarette right now was appealing.

Joey lit my cigarette with his lighter then lit
his own.

“Nothing like a good smoke, eh?” he said. “You’re
a nice looking broad. That your husband?”

“No.” I was playing it cool but I noticed my
fingers were trembling so bad the cigarette was twitching. I put the cigarette
down so Joey couldn’t see.

“You ever free for dinner?” he said.

I shrugged.
“Maybe.”
I
couldn’t believe he was hitting on me, but this might lead to escape.

“I know some good restaurants around town. I do
pretty good driving for Ratko. I could show you a good time.”

Joey must have been all of five feet high with
a pencil thin mustache that looked like it would draw blood if you kissed him.
He sported a black and white check jacket that I had last seen the likes of in
a 1950s movie. In any other circumstance I would have laughed at his
cheekiness, but this wasn’t the time. I played along. “It doesn’t look like I’m
going to have too many more good times, if things don’t go like Ratko wants.”

Joey shrugged. “He’s pretty pissed about the
rifles.
Them
vodka
swillers
are unpredictable. I don’t much like working for them but they pay
good
. If Ratko ever finds that guy Cody, he’ll be mincemeat.
Say, do you like mincemeat pie? My mother always made it at Christmas.
One of my favorites.”

In my mind I saw Joey grinding up Cody arm by
arm and a fat Italian woman rolling pie dough. I developed a coughing fit.

“What’s the matter?
 
You don’t like Marlboros?”

I beat my chest. “I must have inhaled down the
wrong pipe. You mind if we get out? It’s a little stuffy in here.”

Joey looked around. “I guess it’d be okay.
Here, let me get the door for you.”

The guy had manners. Maybe I should switch
allegiances. Where could Jake have gone with those men? I hoped they hadn’t
killed him. If they killed Jake, a thought I was reluctant to entertain, there
wasn’t much hope for me.

Joey opened my door and held out his hand to
help me down. I didn’t see any sign of a gun.
Trusting soul.
I calculated that I probably outweighed him by a good fifty pounds. Instead of
daintily stepping down, I launched myself and caught him off guard. Over we went
in a scuffle.

“What the hell, what the hell,” he kept
shouting. We rolled around on the ground, me trying to whack him with my purse,
he trying to shield his face. Surprise had been to my advantage. He seemed more
interested in trying to defend himself than in trying to subdue me. I kept
trying to whack his bony head. Finally, my purse connected hard with his head,
and I jumped up and ran. I wasn’t sure where to go but the trees beyond the
shed looked like a good bet. Unfortunately, I had on high heel boots. I kept
tripping on stones and pinecones and whatever else resides on a pine forest
floor.

I didn’t hear footsteps, and I didn’t look
back. My only thought was cover. I came to a clearing and saw a quaint gazebo
on the bank of a small pond on the Lodge extended estate. I ran for it. The
gazebo was open around the top but the bottom half was enclosed, and I collapsed
behind the wooden wall.

I had a sharp pain in my side from running and
could barely get my breath. The cigarette hadn’t helped. I clawed my way up to
look back the way I had come. I could see the garage through the trees but
nothing else. Where was Jake? Where had he gone? I didn’t see any houses. I had
no idea where to go. I was afraid I’d run into someone I didn’t want to see.

Damn that Jake. Damn that Hudson. Damn Cody. At
least Opal got away. I hoped. I slid back down and sat against the wall. How
did Jake know where those rifles were? How was it that Hudson had concealed
them without Cody knowing? Were they going to kill Jake after they had gotten
the rifles? Had they already knifed or shot him? Maybe they hadn’t finished off
the job, and he was hurt.

The suspense was killing me so I decided I’d
sneak back to see what was happening. Maybe the furniture truck had arrived. I sat
up and brushed off my clothes. They were dirty, and my feet hurt. But it could
be worse. I could be dead. At least, I hadn’t been tortured.

BOOK: Designer Detective (A Fiona Marlowe Mystery)
2.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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