Fear Familiar Bundle (27 page)

"What will happen to Zelda when this is over?" Eleanor hoped for some trace of compassion.

He shrugged. "She's served her purpose. I'm sure the security guards will kill her on the spot. More than likely you'll be killed, too."

"Don't do this," Betty said. "Eleanor was never involved. I did it all." She looked at Eleanor and hung her head. "I even set you up for that AFA meeting by breaking into your office and leaving that flyer."

"Why?"

"You were already a suspect. I figured you'd eventually clear your name, and I'd be free to continue liberating animals. The thing I didn't count on was running into Arnold Evans." She spoke the name as if it had a vile taste. "Subhuman, torturer…"

"Enough, Dr. Gillette," Evans said. He was completely undisturbed by her disgust. "Now, both of you ladies have a good night's rest. We have a busy day tomorrow." He came toward them, two pills on his palm. "Take one."

"What about Carter?" Eleanor picked up the capsule and held it. "When can I see him?"

"Sooner than you wish," he said, laughing.

"Does he know you killed Rayburn?" She held her breath.

Evans's face hardened for a brief moment, then relaxed. "Too bad Rayburn didn't keep his mouth shut. As soon as he hung up talking to you, he called us. It was a simple thing to lure him to your apartment and eliminate him. It was our misfortune that you evaded the suspicions."

"Where is Carter now?" Eleanor held her breath again. If he was indeed alive, she might be able to sway him to help her. He'd never really loved her, but surely he didn't hate her enough to want her to die. "Where is he?"

"Well, after the number my associates did on his brakes, I sincerely hope he's a heap of bones at the bottom of a canyon."

"You killed him! And all of this has been a trick!" Eleanor felt relief, anger and the destruction of her last, fragile hope.

"Yes, pretty good, huh?"

She could never let Evans know how frightened she was. He fed off the fear of others. "That's pretty clever. The person who pretended to be him— he sounded exactly like him, moved like him," she agreed matter-of-factly. She saw Betty's openmouthed astonishment. "You really had me going, Evans. I believed that Carter had come back from the grave." An eerie sensation moved across her skin. "When he came to the parking garage…"

"What parking garage? We never set you up in a garage." Evans looked baffled, then angry.

"That first time he 'appeared' in the garage of my building." Something was wrong. "What is it?" she asked. Watching Evans's eyes, she felt the return of her darkest fears. Evans had never sent the man playing Carter to her building. She could read it in his face.

"I've had enough of this foolish talk. Take it!" He thrust the second pill at Betty.

Neither woman had a chance to spit them out; he kept too close an eye on them.

"Now sleep," he said as he flipped off the light. "Tomorrow you're going to need to be rested."

"I wish I could get to a phone and call Alva Rousel," Betty said angrily. "He'd show you a thing or two."

Evans's laughter rang across the room. "Yes, I'm sure he would. He isn't anything if he isn't Mr. CIA, is he?" He laughed again.

"W
E MUST
bide our time and wait," Magdalena said. She was back in her own living room, bundled in a comforter. A line of pain was etched on her forehead.

"Why can't we go now?" Peter asked. "Eleanor's life may be at stake."

"Patience, Peter," she said softly. "There's a lot more at stake here than Eleanor's life, as much as I value it. Evans has slipped through our fingers too often before. When he tries to pull this scheme off, we'll have him cold. Besides, if he were going to hurt her, he'd have done it at the lab." She looked at Joey. "You have the waiter's uniform."

He nodded. "I can do it. I know exactly what I'm to do."

"And you, Peter? Will you be able to hold yourself in?"

"Yes," he said. "But Evans is mine when this is over. For old times' sake."

"Thanks for making my bail," she said, shifting so that he could prop up her injured ankle. "They know I didn't kill that man, but once you get on the wrong side of the law, they like to make you pay."

"Thank Joey for bailing you out," Peter replied. "I couldn't go inside, because they think I killed Nottingham in the tidal basin. Let's try to get some rest," he added, standing up and stretching. "We'll need it tomorrow. Issac Demont." He said the name slowly. "How did you know, Magdalena?"

"I should have thought of it sooner, actually. The orangutan is such an obvious clue. Demont has worked hard to preserve species in Motambu. His love of apes is not exactly a secret, and he and Nottingham worked closely together. The microfilm was conclusive. Code One Orange," she said. "All of these years and they never gave up. If it couldn't be Central America, Africa would do. As soon as we have Evans, we can get the professionals to run down those numbers. If I were guessing, I'd say foreign bank accounts."

"To fund Evans and his criminal plans," Peter said bitterly.

Magdalena's voice was suddenly tired, disillusioned. "I need to go to bed. Talking about this won't change it, or bring tomorrow any faster."

Peter and Joey stood up when she rose. "It won't be long now," Peter said. He checked his watch. Less than sixteen hours.

T
HE ZIPPER
sealed the red sequined dress up her back, and Eleanor felt her heart skip. It was a perfect fit. Even the makeup that Evans had brought for her was perfect. She felt like a mannequin, some dressed-up killer doll. The tears threatened and she thought of Peter. She wanted to speak to him, to at least tell him what she felt for him.

"Don't think about it," Betty warned her. "Our plan may not be the most sophisticated, but it might work." She tugged at the bodice of the emerald gown Evans had provided for her. The dress was attractive, but not as stunning as the one Eleanor was wearing.

"He says he'll be holding a gun at your back," Eleanor said. "What if he kills you first?"

"Not much chance on that." Betty grinned, bringing back the dancing light in her blue eyes for a moment. "My mother always told me I was tougher than any girl had a right to be."

"I hope she was right," Eleanor commented. She picked up the silver leash and Zelda rose slowly. There was no sign of life in her big, brown eyes.

"Whatever he gave her must have been strong," Eleanor said. "She doesn't really know what she's doing."

"Thank goodness," Betty said. "Thank goodness."

The door opened and Evans walked in, his tuxedo smudged and rumpled as if he'd slept in it. "They're waiting for the presentation." His eyes roamed approvingly down Eleanor's sleek, glistening form. "You look perfect."

"If I could kill you, I would," she answered. When he tried to take Zelda's leash from her, she jerked it away.

"Suit yourself," he said. "I have no fondness for that creature. And I'll have Dr. Gillette to keep me company." He took Betty's bare elbow, digging his fingers into the tender flesh of her upper arm until she winced. "Just remember," he told Eleanor, "your friend will suffer if you make one false move."

They walked through the hotel, an eye-catching foursome of man, women and orangutan.

"Isn't that little ape darling," one woman gushed, coming over to visit Zelda.

"Stay back!" Evans commanded sharply. "She's extremely valuable."

"I'm sorry," the woman said, withdrawing. She cast a strange look over her shoulder at Evans, but moved away, nonetheless.

Wait!
Eleanor's mind screamed at her.
Can't you see something is wrong?
But she remembered the metal pressed into Betty's back and kept moving. Zelda walked like an automaton at her side.

They went through the lobby and down an elegant hallway with beautiful carpets and large vases of fresh flowers. At the Chinese ballroom they were stopped by several security officers.

"No handbags, no weapons," the officer said, giving them a professional smile. "And you have an invitation?"

Evans gave him the embossed card, and they were ushered into the room.

A swirl of hunter green and rich burgundy seemed to stretch across the white marble floors and walls. Tiers of starched linen tablecloths folded out on all sides. Sparkling chandeliers shimmered with golden points of light.

Eleanor felt herself being pulled into the room, moving past a line of people whose names and faces were only a blur. At the end of the line she saw Issac Demont, a tall, smiling man who bowed to her with the most courtly of manners. His eyes seemed to hold some special promise for her, and she felt her knees begin to buckle.

Evans's arm went around her waist, and his fingers dug into her ribs. "Make a scene and I'll kill you all right here," he whispered.

Eleanor forced her body to move forward. The presentation of Zelda would come in only a few moments, as soon as the official receiving line was closed and Demont took his place on the podium.

"Good luck," Betty whispered.

"You're on your own, and your friend's life depends on you," Evans said as he pushed Betty away. Eleanor stood stock-still, Zelda's leash in her hand. Her eyes caught the movement of additional guests taking seats in the back of the room. Balconies extended from the mezzanine, and tables were already filled with expectant guests. Little did they know they'd come to see the man who held the key to peace in a large segment of Africa die.

She felt the tears sting behind her eyes, then suddenly the ape's hand clutched hers. Looking into the depths of those warm, brown eyes, Eleanor saw a spark of the old life.

"Zelda," she whispered.

The ape's fingers closed tighter on hers.

"We can make it. We'll outfox that maniac," she whispered, feeling a moment of hope for the first time all day.

There was the official fanfare of trumpets as Demont made his way to the dais. Eleanor took up her position with Zelda. A procession had formed, and she was the center of it. She looked around, surprised to see that Charles Breck was not in evidence. Surely he'd want to see his handiwork come to pass, she thought. It struck her suddenly that Nottingham had been as thoroughly set up as she had herself. Breck was arrogant, intolerable, but he obviously knew nothing of this plan. He wouldn't want to be the man whose gift backfired so tragically.

Her attention was called to the head table, where Issac Demont had risen.

"We all gather here to express our sympathy," he began in a deep, melodious voice. "I have known for months of the work the Honorable Sam Nottingham has undertaken in order to provide me with such a special gift. I grieve for him today, and my sympathy goes to his family in their hours of mourning. Sam and I saw many things in many distant lands. I learned much from him, and I believe I can say that I taught him a few things. We were good friends. I know the police will apprehend his murderer, and some degree of solace will come for his family. He was a man with a hot temper, who knew the value of a cool head and the need for peace. I am prepared to accept the gift he worked so hard to prepare for me."

Stunned that the moment had arrived, Eleanor failed to move forward. She felt a nudge at her back.

"Go ahead," a woman urged her. "Everyone's waiting."

Eleanor stepped forward and down the aisle made by the spectators. Something was wrong with Zelda. At the sight of Demont, she had suddenly grown agitated. She shook the gift box as she twisted and capered against the leash. Eleanor held it tight, using all of her strength to keep the orangutan from rushing down the path to the man who waited for her with such open pleasure.

When they were only five feet away, Eleanor stopped. Now was the moment. Hand sweeping the floor, Zelda curtsied. Demont and the whole room thundered applause.

Helpless, Eleanor held the leash as Zelda lifted the lid from the gift box. In one fluid motion Zelda pulled the gun from the tissue and pointed it directly at Issac Demont's head. The scream she uttered was anguished, unearthly.

Eleanor's hand lashed out swiftly and struck Zelda's forearm. The gun exploded into the marble floor, sending the bullet ricocheting into the roof. A second shot was fired from the back of the room, followed by a third from one of the balconies.

Too late, Eleanor reached out to Demont. There was an amazed expression on his face as he fell back, propelled by the blast of a shot into the arms of his security men.

Completely out of control, Zelda screamed and jerked forward. Her lurch was so sudden and so strong that she pulled free from Eleanor's grasp and ran to the stricken man. Her voice was that of a sobbing child as she cradled Demont's head against her hairy chest.

Stupefied by the turn of events, Eleanor swung around slowly. Betty Gillette was standing by Evans's fallen body. Rushing across the room toward her was Peter, dressed in the garb of a waiter.

"Peter," she cried, staggering toward him. "Peter!"

The crowd parted for them, Eleanor flung herself into his arms, the pent-up tears finally flowing. "I tried to stop it. I tried. But he's dead! Evans shot him."

"It's okay," Peter said, holding her, crushing her against himself. "It's okay. Really, Eleanor. It's not as bad as you think. Listen to me." He drew her aside as the commotion near the fallen leader seemed to thicken and swell to a mild uproar.

"Demont's okay. He isn't hurt. I promise," Peter said. He stroked her hair, her cheek, he held her and talked to her. He wanted to pick her up in his arms and carry her out of that room, away from the nightmare she'd been forced to endure.

Very gently he took her to the dais, where a small cluster of dark-suited men stepped back. Issac Demont rose on one elbow and held out his hand to Eleanor. Zelda was at his side, patting his shoulder.

"I am not hurt," he said. "Your friends warned me." He pulled back his jacket to reveal the outline of a bulletproof vest.

"I'm taking that orangutan out of here," a loud, female voice proclaimed. Pushing her way through the crowd, Magdalena Caruso limped toward Eleanor.

"Peter and I argued all morning on account of you," she said to Eleanor, ignoring everyone else around. "He wanted to storm the Mayflower and rescue you like some old-time damsel without a brain. I told him not to bother, that you were smart enough to handle things for yourself, and I was right. Zelda didn't want to kill her old master, but you knocked the shot down, anyway."