Desperate Measures (18 page)

For some reason, perhaps to keep him from worrying more than he already was, she'd decided not to tell him she'd already been to the store. She'd go again in the morning. “I know you'd do it for me. 'Night, Pete.”

Annie replaced the phone on the little night table next to a picture of Pete and Maddie. She picked it up. How pretty she was. How happy they both looked. Her eyes misted. “Make him happy,” she whispered. “Please don't hurt him.”

Because it was too early to go to sleep, Annie made the bed, carried the cups and liquor bottle to the kitchen. She washed all the cups before she made a pot of coffee for herself. She realized she was hungry when she looked into the empty refrigerator. The freezer was full, everything frozen rock-solid. She managed to pry loose a bagel and a stick of butter that she placed in the microwave oven to defrost.

Annie kicked off her shoes, unbuttoning her suit jacket as she made her way to the bedroom. Hanging on a hook behind the door was a striped velour robe. It must belong to Pete, she thought, sniffing, recognizing his scent. She slipped her arms into the robe and belted it. For a brief moment she allowed herself to nuzzle the sleeve before she padded back to the kitchen. She poured coffee, picked up her briefcase and went into the living room. She read the paper she'd picked up at the airport and curled up on the sofa. There was no way in this world she was going to torment herself by sleeping in Pete's bed. Once again she found herself wondering why Pete had never invited her here to this apartment. Oh, he'd invited her to New York often enough, booked her at the Carlisle and paid the bill, but never brought her here.

Dennis was right, she was in love with Pete Sorenson. Unrequited love. “You better love him as much as I do, Maddie Stern, that's all I can say,” she muttered tearfully as she flipped the pages of the
Times
. She skimmed over an article about the U.S. suing General Motors for selling one of its cars despite knowledge of brake fluid leakage. Let some other lawyer handle that. She wondered if Pete knew Jack Nicklaus won the PGA golf title, and made a mental note to mention it. She skimmed through the
Times's
skimpy crime news, reading that two men were gunned down in cold blood on Sunday afternoon in broad daylight. “That's New York for you,” she said. The woman who was an eyewitness to the crime was going to testify. “You do that and you're dead meat.” In disgust she tossed the paper on the coffee table and turned on the television set. She watched what Pete called a shoot-'em-up-bang movie, not knowing or caring what she was watching.

Eventually she dozed, her face cuddled into the bulky sleeve of Pete's robe. Her last conscious thought before drifting off was, true love meant you wanted the other person to be happy, even at the cost of your own happiness.

At ten o'clock sharp the following morning, Annie stepped from a cab directly in front of Fairy Tales. She took a moment to admire the pristine whiteness of the double Dutch doors. Maddie had an eye for decorating. From what she'd been able to see last evening, Fairy Tales was a one-of-a-kind enterprise, just the kind of business Pete would be comfortable backing. It wouldn't hurt his bank account at all to be the husband of the owner. Always keep it in the family, was Pete's motto.

Annie walked into the store, her heart leapfrogging in her chest. She wasn't sure why. She looked around, mesmerized by the detail, the unusual merchandise and the childlike atmosphere of the shop. She looked up to see two women heading in her direction. “Hi, I'm looking for Maddie. Is she here?”

“Miss Stern was called away on a family emergency a few days ago,” one of the women said. “Can we help you?”

Annie shrugged. “And you are?”

“Maddie's cousins,” the second woman said, her gaze sharp and penetrating. “And you?”

“Ruth Ann Gabriel. I'm from Boston. Maddie's fiance has been trying to reach her, but her phone has been disconnected. I went by her apartment and there was a note on the door. I need to talk with her as soon as possible. If you're her cousins, you must have the number where she can be reached.

“It must be serious,” Annie said, looking around, “the family emergency I mean. This shop just opened on Monday.” She smiled at the women, who regarded her stonily. They're cops, Annie thought.

“You came all the way from Boston to talk to Maddie?” one of the women said incredulously.

“Boston isn't that far on the shuttle. Pete is very worried. You being Maddie's cousins and all, you must be aware that it was Pete's money that backed this enterprise. I'm an attorney. I think I might need to see something in writing authorizing you to be in this shop. Better yet, why don't we call Mr. Sorenson in Hong Kong now and straighten this out.”

“We aren't authorized . . . Maddie didn't say anything about making calls out of the country,” the second woman said. “And the phone has been out of order since yesterday.”

“That's no problem, we can call the phone company,” Annie said. “The phone company is real good about immediate repairs for business. I have a phone card. We can charge the call to my office or we can make the call collect. Why don't we do that right now,” Annie said quietly. “Maybe we should call the police.”
Let's see what you have to say to that
. “If you're Maddie's cousins, why aren't you at the family emergency?”

Three women entered the shop and immediately started to ooh and ah over, the displays. They motioned to the two women for help. The “cousins” exchanged glances, but moved off to help the customers, leaving Annie alone.

They were cops, she was sure of it. She'd seen the little byplay when she'd entered the store, with one of the women's hands going to her hip in a reflex motion. Obviously, she was used to wearing a holster. A beat cop. Now what? she wondered. “There's something dark and brown here, Pete, and I think I just stepped in it,” Annie murmured under her breath.

Annie continued browsing the shop, her eyes blurring when she picked up dainty baby outfits that were so exquisite it boggled her mind, as did the miniature price tags. The labels, Annie thought, were just as exquisite as the garment itself, handmade, created by the person who'd made the outfit. Distinctive.

She knew in her gut the phone wasn't out of order. Maybe she should leave the store, call Pete from a phone booth and have him call the store. The two women looked like they were capable of booting her right out. God, what was going on here?

Annie stepped aside as the five women converged on the wrapping table. She watched as merchandise was wrapped in confetti-colored tissue and then placed in shimmery boxes that matched the tissue. The boxes were then placed in oversize shopping bags with silvery strands of cellophane to add the final touches. A class operation. She winced when the totals appeared on the cash register. Twenty-one hundred dollars between the three women, who were still oohing and aahing.

The moment the door tinkled shut, Annie said, “Well, ladies?”

“We can't give out information and we can't help you,” one of them said coolly. “We aren't making any overseas calls until Maddie authorizes it. If you want to call the police, you'll have to do it somewhere else. Now, if you don't mind, we have customers to take care of.”

There was nothing for Annie to do but leave. Outside, she hailed a cab and gave Pete's address. Thirty minutes later she was on the phone explaining to Pete exactly what had happened. “I called the phone company, and they said the phone is working. Give me thirty-five minutes or so to get back to the store, and then you call while I'm there. Don't hang up till you speak with me.”

Minutes later Annie was back in the cab, her mind whirling. Pete was so upset he was threatening to leave Hong Kong on the next flight. She'd convinced him to wait, to let her have one more try at the store. He'd agreed.

Now she was staring at Fairy Tales from the cab window. She didn't need to get out to see the double Dutch doors were closed and locked, the bars spread across the window. One woman was jiggling the handle of the door while another was trying to peer through the shutters. “I'll just be a minute, wait for me,” she said to the driver. She dashed across the street and walked up to the women.

“I don't understand,” one of the women said. “The store was open twenty minutes ago.”

The woman who was peering through the shutters said, “Maybe they're out of stock. This store was jammed yesterday when I was here. I forgot my credit card and had my things set aside. I said I would pick them up at noon. It's noon!” she snapped.

Annie hopped back in the cab and gave Pete's address for the second time in less than an hour.

 

Pete paced his hotel room like a caged animal. He snapped and snarled as he lashed out with his foot, kicking everything in sight. He picked up the phone and roared, “Try that number in New York again. Let it ring until I tell you to stop.” He counted along with the buzzing sounds on the other end. Thirty-three. “All right, operator, never mind, cancel the call.”

“You have a call, Mr. Sorenson, shall I put it through?”

“Yes, damn it.”

“Pete, it's Annie. The shop is closed. I'm back at your apartment. What do you want me to do now?”

“I've taken up enough of your time, Annie. I'm going to see about changing my plane ticket. I'll call the police from here. Annie, thanks a million. I owe you. Big-time. I'll call you when I get back to New York.” There was an edge to his voice when he said, “Don't forget, you're coming to the wedding.”

She didn't answer this, but said instead, “Look, I'm not going to say don't worry. Just use your head. Call me if there's anything I can do.”

“ 'Bye, Annie. Thanks again.”

After he hung up, Pete called the operator again, saying, “I want to make another call to the States. Try both these numbers. Tell whoever answers the phone this is an emergency. I'll stay on the line.”

Pete gulped at the scalding coffee in his cup, barely noticing that he was burning his mouth and throat. He continued to pace, the phone receiver glued to his ear. If anyone could get answers, it was his uncle Leo. He was on his third cup of coffee when his uncle's voice boomed over the wire.

“Peter, I hope you have good news.”

“Leo, there's a problem. Not here, at home.” He told his uncle about Maddie. “I need your help. If you can't get me some answers, then I'm out of here. You'll have to get someone else to finalize. Li Yuen is dragging his feet anyway.”

“Peter, the consortium doesn't like talk like that. Now, tell me again, everything you know, and let me see if I can make sense of it.”

After Pete told Leo what he knew, his uncle said, “It occurs to me, Peter, that your fiancee might have cold feet and is taking the easy way out. I'm disappointed, Peter, that you didn't see fit to tell me about your marriage before. I didn't even know you were engaged. I thought we were family.”

“We are. Maddie wanted . . . wants it simple. Just a few close friends. I was going to tell you when I got back.”

“You're running four days behind schedule, Peter. You cannot slough off this deal because you're getting married. You should have allowed for a delay. I don't think I need to remind you we're paying you a fortune for this job. You can't walk out on it. Do we understand each other, Peter?”

“Maddie is more important to me than this deal. I'll do my best, but I'm coming home for my wedding, you need to know that.”

“As you know, Pete, the individuals involved in the consortium are powerful people. They like you, respect your business acumen. They have it within their power to break you if you cross them.”

“All I do is broker deals,” Pete replied. “Anyone can broker a deal.”

“I'll see what I can find out about your fiancée and call you back,” Leo said coldly. “In the meantime I suggest you get on with the business at hand.”

Maddie woke with a blinding headache. She rolled over,
pulling the pillow on top of her head.

“I thought you were dead,” Janny grumbled. “You didn't move at all for the past hour.”

“Were you going to check on me?” came the muffled response.

“No, I'm too sick. If you were dead, I was going to kill myself.”

Maddie rolled over again and struggled to a sitting position. She cradled her aching head in her hands. “We can get up, dress, eat breakfast, and walk out of this stupid hotel if we want to. Nester couldn't do anything to us. So ... this is a new, fresh day, and we have to decide what we're going to do. And when we make the decision, we have to stick to it. We cannot backwater. Once we sign those papers, we are committed.”

“I can't think till I brush my teeth and have coffee. My mouth tastes like three-day-old dead fish,” Janny said inching out of the bed. “I know, I know, we'll decide. I think we both know we don't have any other options, but if you want to talk it to death, that's okay with me.”

In the doorway to the bathroom Janny turned and said, “Did we really drink that much last night?”

“Yes,” Maddie said. “I have a very clear recollection of doing that.”

“Oh God,” Janny said, closing the bathroom door.

“Yes, oh God, You are the only person—being—who can help us now,” Maddie grated as she got out of bed.

Later, clean and smelling of hotel shampoo and powder, the two women huddled in the room drinking black coffee and smoking cigarettes.

“I guess what I'm trying to say, Janny, is, I'm going to enter the program if ... if they make us a few promises. Think hard now, what do you want to ask for? I know what I want. I think they'll make some concessions. If we're as important to the government as I think we are, I think they'll bend a little. We certainly have nothing to lose at this point. And we ask to be placed together in the Witness Protection Program.” The program, they'd been told, would protect them up until the trial, issuing them fake names and IDs, and then afterward, if necessary.

The government people arrived at noon with bulging briefcases. Nester arrived a few minutes later. He looks tired, Maddie thought. She thought she could still see pity in his eyes.

Marshal Adam Wagoner droned on for forty minutes. Maddie listened intently. William Monroe from the Justice Department added a few words, as did Carl Weinstein from the FBI. When Weinstein finished, he sat back in his chair and motioned to Maddie.

“We understand,” she said. “Janny and I have agreed that we will enter the program if you meet three of our conditions.”

“No deal,” Wagoner said coolly.

Maddie stood up and reached for her purse. “Gentlemen, you need us more than we need you. If we walk out of here now, we won't come back. Yes, we'll probably be killed, but we'll be who we are when we die. Yes, we have the guts to do it, don't think for one minute we don't.”

“You can at least listen,” Nester said quietly, his comment directed toward the marshal.

“We don't make deals,” Wagoner repeated.

“Consider it a request,” Janny snapped.

The man from Justice said, “Spit it out.”

“I want your word, Mr. Wagoner, that when my fiance returns home, you will let me speak to him. I know what you said about his uncle. But even if your suspicions are correct, and his uncle is ‘connected,' as you put it, I don't believe Pete knows about it. And I'd want to ask him myself anyway. I want to hear it from Pete's own lips. You can arrange a phone call, he can tell me yes or no.” Maddie held up a hand to forestall interruption. “Then,” she said succinctly, “if Pete wants to join me, you will arrange it.

“Secondly, Janice wants all her Unitec stock transferred to her new name, whatever it turns out to be. We want it done today before we leave.

“Third, we want to be located in the same place. Together.”

“Yes to the first two, no to your last request. Decide now,” Wagoner said, towering over Maddie.

“But why?” both women cried in unison.

“It's too risky. I'm denying this request for your own protection. Is there anything else?”

“No,” Maddie murmured. Janny shook her head.

“That's it, then. Pack your belongings. You'll be leaving here at dusk, possibly a little later.” He held out his hand. Both women stepped back, refusing to accept his outstretched hand. “Good luck,” he snapped.

Nester remained behind, the guard outside the door.

“I guess your promotion is pretty much guaranteed,” Maddie said quietly. He nodded. “Will Wagoner do as he promised?”

“I have to believe he's a man of his word. I think you need to prepare yourself for the fact that Mr. Sorenson might not want to give up his life for you. You need to be realistic, Maddie.”

“I know that. I can accept it if I hear it from him. We're both going to try very hard to handle this.”

“I wish you both the best of everything,” Nester said. “I'll see you at the trial.”

“If the trial is successful and you bring down the . . . whatever you call those people, will we be permitted to leave the program? I forgot to ask that question. How could I have forgotten to ask something so important? I need to know that. Janice needs to know.”

“If the ‘threat area' is safe, I would think you're free to do as you please. That's just my opinion. I wish I could be more help, but the Marshals Service is outside my realm. They don't take kindly to questions. I can call and ask, and they can say they'll get back to me, five years from now. Think of it as your light at the end of the tunnel. It will be something for you to hang on to,” Nester said quietly.

“Detective, what's your first name? We should know that, don't you think?”

The detective shuffled his feet and looked embarrassed. “Otis,” he mumbled.

“Otis, if Pete goes to the police and asks questions when he returns, what will he be told?”

“I don't know. Orders haven't come down in regard to Pete Sorenson. I'm not lying, Maddie, I really don't know.”

“But you know everything. Can't you—”

“No, Maddie, I can't. Look, I'm not your enemy, neither is the marshal or the Justice man or the guy from the FBI. We're a network pledged to keep you and Janny safe. We do whatever it takes. I'll see you around. You ladies are okay.”

“Thanks, Otis.” Maddie's hand shot out. Nester's eyebrows inched upward with the pressure she exerted. There was respect on his face when he left the room.

“Welcome to the Witness Protection Program, Miss whatever-your-name-is,” Maddie said in a choked voice.

“I'm going to miss you, Maddie,” Janny sobbed.

“Me too. I mean I'll miss you too. Now look at us, our makeup is all smeared.”

Janny eyed their new police guard. “Is it okay if we go into the bathroom to fix our makeup?” The guard nodded.

Inside, Maddie ripped at the wrapper from a fresh roll of toilet tissue. She smoothed it out. With a pen from her purse she scrawled a written message: “If things get bad, put a message in the personal column of
USA Today
. Use the initials FT for Fairy Tales. I'll do the same. Once a month.” Maddie looked at Janny, who nodded, then she continued writing: “Each time, give a number of your phone number, every Friday, until you give the whole phone number. I'll do my ad every Thursday until you have mine. After that, once a month.” She looked at Janny again before she ripped off a section, threw the wad of paper in the toilet, and flushed it. She scribbled on the remaining paper: “Scratch everything I just wrote. We need phone numbers at phone booths. Same deal, every Friday for you. I'll do Thursday. Every Saturday, after we have a full number, you be at your pay phone and I'll be at mine. Twelve noon.”

Janny nodded and scribbled: “That's ten weeks or two and a half months. Let's do the ad every day.”

Maddie nodded, turned the paper over and wrote: “Eight hundred numbers mean no charge, no record on a phone bill. How do we pay? They'll check our mail.” Janny rolled her eyes and shrugged. Maddie wrote: “I have the feeling I'm going to be watched a lot more carefully than you. You pay for both accounts if you can. If I can, I will. If you give them the initials, they'll know what to look for when we call the ads in. It's worth a try.” She scrunched up the paper into small, tight balls before she flushed them down the toilet.

Janny used her index finger to trace words on the mirror. “We're breaking the rules and we haven't even started.”

Maddie nodded. Her finger traced the words “I don't care.”

Janny wiped the mirror with a damp washcloth.

Both women applied a slash of crimson to their mouths before they returned to the sitting room to finish watching “As the World Turns.”

Hours later, sobbing and crying, hanging on to one another, the women hugged and said their good-byes. Tears streaming down her cheeks, Maddie waved wanly to her best friend as she was led away by four U.S. Marshals at seven o'clock. Twenty minutes later four more U.S. Marshals arrived to take Maddie downstairs and out to the waiting car.

Madelyn Marie Stern and Janice Hobart no longer existed.