Jay Giles (28 page)

Chapter 43

The note read:
A preview of what’s coming.

     
A sick feeling began in my stomach and spread. I wondered if Wilder had left me other presents. I went room to room. Didn’t find anything. I got a garbage bag from under the sink, took it back to the bedroom, gathered bed sheets, cat, knife, and note. I stuffed it all in the bag, took it out, and dropped it down the garbage chute. Even as I got rid of everything Wilder had touched, the point of his visit stayed with me. He could get to me anywhere.

     
I wedged a chair under the door handle. Balanced a glass on top of the knob. Tricks I’d seen in movies. Only after I rigged every possible access to the place, did I remake the bed, try and get some sleep.

     
As you might imagine, it was not one of my better nights. When I finally did drop of to sleep, I had nightmares, but not of Claire and the kids. These were of faceless people jumping out of the darkness, grabbing me.

     
When I awoke terrified for the fourth time, I gave up and got out of bed. I showered, shaved, dressed, got myself a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice. I was in the office by five.

     
At eight-forty-five, the trailer door opened, Rosemary rushed in, closed the door behind her, plopped her bag on her desk, and said, “Sorry I’m late. The oddest thing happened this morning.”

     
I knew what she was about to say, felt awful. “Your cat disappeared.”

     
She nodded. “Did Dan call and tell you? We can’t understand it. That cat never leaves the house. This morning, she’s nowhere to be found.”

     
“Rosemary, have a seat. Let’s talk for a moment.”

     
She walked down the aisle, settled in my visitor’s chair. “I can’t gab long, I’m late and I’ve got work that needs doing.”

     
“Last night, someone left a dead animal in my bedroom as a warning. It was a cat,” I said gently.

     
Her eyes went wide. Her mouth opened.

     
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was your cat.”

     
Her mouth closed. In her lap, her hands were clasped together, the knuckles white. “Someone was in my house? Took my cat?”

     
“I’m afraid so.”

     
Her gaze searched my face. “Why? Why would somebody do that?”

     
“I can’t explain it. It doesn’t make any sense. They didn’t have to kill Eddie, either. But they did. I can’t do anything about your cat, but I want to make sure you’re safe. We talked about you and Dan going to
England
. Now’s the time.”

     
“We can’t do it. I’ve been meaning to tell you, he can’t get the time off.”

     
“Call him, talk to him, see if he can’t get the company to reconsider.” Dan was a CPA. This wasn’t his tax time. Someone could cover for him. “I’d like the two of you to go as soon as possible. Today, even.”
       

     
She didn’t say anything, didn’t move.

     
“Rosemary?

     
Her eyes cleared, she looked at me. “It’s so mean, Matt. So hurtful.” She stood. “I’ll call Dan.”

     
She looked shaky as she walked back to her desk. She sat, composed herself, picked up the phone. Dan wasn’t available. She left a message for him to call as soon as he was out of his meeting.

     
At ten-thirty, he called back. Rosemary poured out what happened to the cat, their need to leave. When the conversation ended, she turned in her seat to face me. “Dan said he’d see what he could do.”

     
At eleven, he called back. Rosemary listened. “I wouldn’t feel right about going by myself,” she said finally. “I’d be worried the whole time.” More listening. She turned, looked at me. “Can you pick up?”

     
I picked up the phone. “Hello. Dan. Sorry I got you guys in such a mess.”

     
“This wasn’t your fault, Matt. I was just explaining to Rosemary, there’s no way I can leave. I’ve got a deal closing middle of next week. But I think she should go.”

     
“I’d be worried if he stayed here by himself,” Rosemary said adamantly.

     
“I’ll be fine.” Dan sounded like a kid with an overly protective mother.

     
“Tell him he needs to go, Matt.”

     
Uh, oh. Mom telling Dad to discipline junior. “I’m most concerned about you, Rosemary. Dan’s a step removed. He’ll be okay. I’d like to get you on a plane out of here, today if possible.”

     
“Go ahead, hon. Matt’s right. You’ll get to see Rebecca, your folks.”

     
The look Rosemary gave me said she wasn’t convinced. “Oh, all right,” she said hesitantly. “I’ll call, see about flights.”

     
“‘Bye, Matt,” Dan said.

     
I hung up. They talked a while longer. When she hung up, I said, “Call A-One Travel. Charge it to the company.”

     
She made a face. “You don’t have to pay for my trip.”

     
“Call,” I told her and went back to work.

     
“It’s done,” she said, twenty minutes later. “I fly out tomorrow at five-twenty.”

     
“Nothing sooner?”

     
She shook her head. “Best I could do.”

     
“Between now and then, I want you to be careful. Don’t go anywhere by yourself. Stay in crowds. Does your house have an alarm you can set tonight?”

     
“You’re beginning to scare me, Matt.”

     
“Good. If you’re scared you’ll be careful.”

     
“I’m going to be fine. I’m leaving. It’s Dan I’m worried about.”

     
“I’ll check on him, make sure he’s okay.”

     
“So will I. I’ll be calling him every night.” She stood, came down to my desk, hugged me. “I should be calling you every night, too.”

     
A tear ran down her cheek.

     
I smiled. “Don’t cry. There’s nothing to cry about.”

     
She pulled away, dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “What do you mean? If ever there was a time for a good cry, this is it.”

     
We got through the rest of the day without more tears. Not that there weren’t moments. It wasn’t a particularly busy day—the markets were quiet in anticipation of a Fed meeting the following week—so Rosemary had time to dwell on unpleasant possibilities. I didn’t. I used the time to send a fax alert to all our clients, letting them know the office would be closed the following week.

     
At five, we called it a day, turned off the lights and computers, locked the door to the trailer. As we walked to our cars, I said, “Just to be safe, let me drive you home.”

     
She shook her head, made a face. “You don’t need to do that. It’s out of your way.”

     
I insisted. I wasn’t about to let her drive home alone. I was glad I did. When we arrived at her house, Dan wasn’t there yet. I sat with her until we heard the sound of his tires on the gravel driveway.

     
He came in the front door, tie loosened, suit coat over his arm, briefcase in hand. We talked for a few minutes. When I said I had to go, Dan said he’d walk out to the car with me.

     
“You really think she’s in danger?” he asked.

     
I nodded. “I think you are, too.”

     
He frowned. “Rosemary doesn’t know, but I’ve got a gun. I’ll keep it handy.”

     
I nodded, opened the door to the Saab. “I’ll call you. We’ll get together for dinner one night.”

     
“You’re on,” he said and waved as I backed out of the driveway. During the drive back to town, my car phone rang. I hit the button. “Matt Seattle.”

     
“Matt, it’s Tory. Fish is ready for this evening. He’s going to be very romantic.”

     
I laughed.

     
“I’ve also talked to Bill Perez, the Foundation guy, twice this morning. Everything is confirmed for Friday. He has Asolo booked, big name to MC, promos start airing tonight. This guy knows how to put an event together. He’s impressive.”

     
“Did he say any more about D’Onifrio?”

     
“He said he’s talked to him several times, mostly answering questions. What time does he need to be there? How long should his acceptance speech be? What else is on the program? That kind of stuff.”

     
“If he’s asking those kinds of questions, sounds like he’s planning on being there. You haven’t heard any more from Raines, have you?”

     
“No, why?”

     
“Getting Joe’s information to Enrico and the nephews still worries me.”

     
“Raines will take care of it,” she said confidently.

     
I turned onto the causeway, slowed; the drawbridge was up. A sailboat mast bobbed up and down as the boat made her way past.

     
“We ought to touch base tomorrow. See how Fish’s evening went, what else we need to do for him.”

     
“You want to meet at his place?”

     
“Around eleven.”

     
“See you then.”

     
I hit the off button, waited for the bridge to lower, traffic to clear. On a whim, I stopped at the Holiday Inn for dinner. Fridays they had a seafood buffet. I ate a leisurely dinner, got back to the condo about ten, went for a walk on the beach, was in bed by midnight.

     
Saturday was overcast, windy—a good day to get my top fixed. I called the Saab dealer, dropped the car off. I drove the loaner, a silver sedan, to Fish’s condo for our eleven o’clock meeting.

     
“I just ordered pizza,” Tory said when I let myself in. “Frankie’s starving. He said she loved the ring.”

     
On the sofa, Fish gave us his version of a grin. “She was ecstatic until after dinner. Then she started asking me about the honeymoon.”

     
I laughed.

     
“It’s not funny,” he said in his foghorn voice. “What are we going to do?”

     
I pulled a chair up facing him. “What’s the boss say you can do?”

     
“What do you mean?”

     
“This marriage was to get him his money. Is he planning on taking it right away? Is he going to give you guys a little time together? Have you talked about this with him at all?”

     
“No.”

     
“No, what?’