Last Fairytale, The (14 page)

“Who knows?”

“I won’t be sorry when they’re both found and this is all over.”

“Won’t you miss me?”

“You live downstairs. You’re right below me. You’re only a short elevator ride away.”

“Oh, that’s right.”

“Hey Genny, I’ve decided to make another run at Vonnegon. I’m going to head over to see him at his office and ask a few more questions.”

“Try to be devious this time.”

“You don’t think I can be crafty and conniving?”

Gen laughed. “Let’s just say I don’t think you have the innate ability to be an accomplished sneak.”

“I get the distinct feeling you’re avoiding me.” Taylor Vonnegon filled the doorway of his office, wearing impeccably-tailored brown slacks topped by a dress shirt, tie, and dark red sweater.

It reminded Bree of the color of dried blood.

“I’ve been busy,” she replied. “Lots to do. You know how it is.”

“Well, I’m glad you had time today. Or are you just hungry?”

Her smile felt clumsy, and she hoped he didn’t notice. “Hungry and curious. I have a couple more questions.”

Vonnegon stepped aside and Bree moved past him into the room. She was dressed casually, in snakeskin-print leggings and flats and a thin, thigh-length mocha sweater. “And I wanted to see where you work.”

The panorama from Vonnegon’s private rooms was like a postcard. Three floors above the research department, the city was laid out like a tapestry pebbled with precious stones. The spectacle was dazzling.

The CEO’s furnishings matched.

The inner room was so spacious that a hefty baroque desk and armoire didn’t begin to overpower it. Matching antique oval frames with gilt insets were filled with vintage photographs of old San Francisco.

Bree walked toward the wall of windows. “I see you’re a view person. Is it the scenery you enjoy, or the fact you’re so high up above us all?”

“Ouch.”

When she heard the grimace in Vonnegon voice, she turned away from the glass and frowned. “I’m sorry, that didn’t come out right.”

“This was my father’s office. I inherited it when he abdicated.”

“Why do you call it an abdication?”

“Because he was very much like a king.” Vonnegon indicated a series of pictures and Bree moved toward them. “My father.”

The man appeared in several sepia stills. In one, he was cutting a ribbon with a huge pair of scissors; in another, he was seated with a group of suited men behind him. He held a shotgun in yet another, cigar stuck jauntily in his mouth, with a backdrop of snow-capped mountains in the distance.

He had the air of a man at the top of his game, proud and somehow untouchable.

“You look like him,” Bree said.

Taylor turned away to stare out the window. “What did you want to ask?”

“My attorney stumbled across your place in Tiburon. It’s just a few miles from the dock where Andrew kept his boat. That’s a coincidence, being so close. I’m curious if you were more connected than you let on.”

“Sounds like you’re conducting your own investigation. Would you mind telling me why?”

“I–” Bree decided to tell the truth. “I want to write an article about Ducane. When the police solve the case.”

“What’s your spin?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I’m curious if it will be an exposé about my company, or a personal interest piece about the tragic death of a talented young man.”

“The second.”

“Would you tell me if it was the first?”

“I’m not looking to make enemies here.”

“All right.” His manner turned brisk as he walked to his desk and made a note on a pad of paper. “I am on title because I inherited the Tiburon house from my father when he died. But I don’t use it. I quit-claimed the property to the corporation years ago. We simply never recorded the deed because, well, it just did not seem important. I understand that my half-brother stays there from time to time. At any rate, I have the document. I will provide a copy should the detectives inquire.”

Bree sat down in an ornate upholstered chair facing the desk. “One of the detectives told us the security camera recorded your car entering Elergene’s parking garage just before I found Ducane. It would have been impossible for you to get upstairs in time to find the body before I did.”

“I’ve been over this with the police. My secretary was driving the Mercedes that afternoon. I’d asked her to run an errand, something she does often.” He looked up. “Anything else?”

“Where did you go after you found Andrew? Why didn’t you call the cops right then?”

“Again, I told the police. I went to the men’s room to vomit.”

“You must have recovered quickly. You looked very collected when I saw you just a few minutes later.”

He was silent for three beats. “I tend to remain calm on the exterior.”

“Even so, I’m thinking that’s not the whole story.”

“Your powers of perception are excellent. It’s not exactly what happened.”

Bree looked at him in amazement. “You lied?”

“I didn’t lie, Bree. I don’t lie. I’m not a liar.”

“You didn’t tell the whole truth.”

“I did go to the men’s room, and I was ill. The part I left out and have since told the police is that Russell actually found Andrew first, saw that he was dead, and fled the building. Perhaps he left because he was simply overcome, or perhaps so he couldn’t be incriminated. Whatever the reason, he called from his car babbling some inane story and I went down to see for myself.”

“You told Hackett and Garcia this?”

“Yes. Why, aren’t they filling you in as quickly as you’d like?”

She dropped her eyes. “They’re not filling me in at all. Garcia’s threatened to put me in handcuffs if I get involved.”

“That doesn’t seem to be stopping you.”

Bree looked up to find Vonnegon staring at her. “Do you think your brother killed Ducane?”

“Half-brother. I refuse to speculate. All I know is that Russell is missing. The police searched his home here in town, and it looks as though he packed for a trip and left.”

“He didn’t tell you he was leaving?”

“He wouldn’t have. We’re not close. He has a minor role here at the family business, and that is the only contact we have.”

“Then why did he call you when he found Ducane? And why didn’t you call the police right away when you heard your brother’s story?”

“Half-brother.” Taylor picked up a pen and began to tap it against the desk. “I don’t know why he called me first. And I went down because I didn’t believe it could be true. I thought he was exaggerating, that he’d simply found Andrew asleep or that he’d fainted.

“I had just been with the boy at a meeting a few hours before. He looked a little tired, but he was not complaining of feeling ill. Obviously, I was shocked when I found him. I went to the men’s room and when I came back you were with his body. I found that highly suspicious. The rest you know.”

Bree lowered her eyes and nodded, thoughtful. “Seems to make sense.”

“You sound surprised.”

She looked him in the eye. “It’s easy to wonder about you.”

“I hope you mean in a personal sense.”

Bree smiled.

“All right, then.” Vonnegon glanced at the clock on the desk. “If your business has been concluded, why don’t you accompany me to tea at the Fairmont? My mouth is watering for a cup of properly steeped Earl Grey and a croissant. Shall we?”

“I didn’t peg you for a tea drinker.”

He scooped up a set of keys and winked. “There’s so much you don’t know about me. If you have any questions about my skills and attributes, fire away.”

As they walked into the anteroom, Bree was laughing over her shoulder at Vonnegon’s comment, but stopped when she nearly collided with a figure just outside the door.

Vonnegon didn’t break stride. He didn’t stop for introductions; he simply continued toward the hall.

It was his gatekeeper, the secretary who’d been with him the night Ducane died. Bree opened her mouth to apologize for not paying attention, but the woman turned and left without a word.

“Sorry,” Bree called to her receding back. “I need to watch what I’m doing.”

The woman halted, then straightened until her posture was regal. Even in profile, it was clear she’d been a beauty in her day.

She turned to face Bree. Her lips curved into a genuine smile. “You’re so right. We all need to be careful. I do worry about Taylor when he’s distracted, so I can imagine how it might be for you. Difficulties arise when one is not focused and deliberate.

“Take care.” She walked away, crossing the room to pull a stack of paperwork from a basket on the desk, then strode into Vonnegon’s suite. “You two have a wonderful afternoon.”

They left Bree’s car in the parking garage. Taylor drove to the Fairmont, where they left the sedan with a valet and were seated in the main dining room for tea.

Vonnegon was charming and attentive. Bree felt comfortable in his presence. She told him about her sister’s family and her experience among the homeless.

He told her a bit about his childhood.

“Why did you go to a British boarding school,” Bree asked, “with so many great private schools in the city?”

“My father decreed it. So I went abroad for a while.”

“How did your mother feel about that?”

“My parents lived apart by then. My father retained primary custody of me, so he made the rules.”

“That must have been sad for your mom.”

“Beyond sad,” he replied. “We were close. But we found ways to stay connected.”

“Are they still alive?”

“My father died about four years ago, just after he handed over the reins of the company to me. Actually, it was his illness that made him step down.”

“And your mother?”

“She’s alive, yes.”

“And are you still close?”

“Very,” Vonnegon replied. “Now I insist that you try the strawberry tart. The flavor is amazing.” He used tongs to move the pastry from the serving tray to her plate. “More coffee? I’m disappointed you didn’t join me in the tea service, it’s the best this side of the Atlantic.”

“A taste you picked up in jolly old England?”

“One of them.”

Bree was about to ask what else he’d taken an affinity to when his cell rang.

“Drat. I apologize,” he said. “I thought I’d turned that off.” He pulled the phone from his pocket. “And of course, it’s a call I must take. Please excuse me, I’ll handle this out in front so you won’t be disturbed.”

He answered quietly with a simple, “Taylor Vonnegon, please hold for just a moment,” then rose with the phone cupped in his hand and strode through the open door and into the lobby.

Bree cut a wedge from the flaky tart. Mmmm. He was right, it was heavenly. She was wondering if the hotel shared their recipes when her own phone beeped. By the time she’d fished it from her purse, the call had gone to voice mail.

She checked the display. It was Genny, probably calling to hear if she’d made any headway. She’d call back when she got home. There would be plenty of time to catch her up on the conversation later.

Right now was the perfect opportunity for a trip to the ladies’ room. She beckoned to the waiter and asked directions, then followed Taylor’s path into the vestibule. He was gone. She went to the washroom.

A few minutes later she emerged, but misjudged the route and made a wrong turn into a back hallway. Vonnegon was ten feet away, leaning against the wall with the phone to his ear.

Bree tiptoed forward. She was about to tap him on the shoulder when she froze, arm outstretched.

“I’ll take care of it myself this time.” His voice carried a cruel thread. “I will not stand for this. You stay away. I’ll get rid of the problem personally. I’ll dispose of the garbage myself if I have to, and I’ll see to it right now.”

Holding her breath, Bree fled back around the corner, managing to slide into her empty seat just before Vonnegon appeared in the open door.

She smiled at him and waved.

* * *

By the time Taylor Vonnegon dropped Bree back at the Elergene parking garage, she’d hatched a scheme to follow him.

The minute he came to a halt behind the VW, he was out of the car and opening the passenger door. Bree stepped out and shouldered her purse, then extended her hand. “Thank you. I enjoyed that.”

“The pleasure was mine.” He ignored her extended palm and instead moved closer, subtly pinning her against the side of the sedan. He wrapped his arms around her waist and caressed a thick lock of hair behind her back.

She wondered at the strange combination of attraction and uncertainty he inspired in her. Surely by now her instincts should be screaming to choose one over the other, yet she remained unsure whether to take the man to bed, or run.

Was it her past, or was he really that good at scrambling his signal? Was the conversation she’d overheard innocent or treacherous?

“I’ve never told you,” he whispered, “how much I love your hair.”

Unwilling to let anything develop, she gave him a quick squeeze and a peck on the cheek. “You’re sweet. But I’ve got to run. Let’s do this again sometime.”

He brushed his lips across her forehead and released her. “Dinner this weekend?”

“Will it involve another helicopter ride?”

“I’ll think of something closer to home.” He gave her a hug, then dropped his hands from her hips and stepped back. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye.” Bree opened the car door and angled herself inside as Taylor drove away. She quickly reversed the VW from its stall and followed him up the ramp, then watched as he merged into traffic.

She called Gen and followed the Mercedes at a discreet distance. When voice mail picked up, she waited for the prompt and left a message.

“Genny, it’s Bree. I just had tea with Vonnegon and overheard something important. He told someone on the phone he needed to take out the rubbish. He didn’t mean empty the office trash cans, so I’m going to follow him. I’ll call when I can.”

Dusk was descending. Bree flicked on the headlights as they crossed the bridge. Twenty minutes later he took the Sausalito exit, and she hung back as they approached town.

As she followed Vonnegon up into the residential streets above the marina, Bree worried that he might catch sight of her. But he’d only seen her car once, and that was today in the garage. Chances were good he hadn’t paid attention.

So when he pulled into a secluded driveway, she drove slowly past. Vonnegon was already out of his car and speaking with a man. His back was to the road, but their gestures were clear.

The conversation was heated.

She doused the headlights and pulled to the curb a few houses down. Her cell pinged. She answered in a whisper. “I can’t talk, Livvie.”

“Why are you whispering?”

“Because I’m in Sausalito, kind of sneaking around. I’ll call you when I get out of here.”

“Don’t you dare hang up until you tell me–”

Bree cut him off. Liv would be put out with her, but she could coax him from his bad mood later. She started to turn off her phone, but changed her mind and tucked the cell beneath the floor mat, then eased out onto the road.

The night was dark and silent. The neighborhood was deserted. The voices were gone. She walked back and hugged the hedge that separated the yard from the street. She eased forward until she gained the bottom of the drive.

Bree curled her face around the shrubs to have a look and saw a movement in front of her. She reared back, but not soon enough. “Taylor?”

A cloth was pressed over her mouth and nose. She tried to slap the hand away, but her attacker clenched her body tight.

Her head felt thick. Her struggling slowed.

Bree drew in a breath to scream, but the sound faded in her throat.

She sank into unconsciousness.