Scarecrow’s Dream (19 page)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Shane buzzed me through the front entrance, and then waited for me to arrive at Addie’s door. “Glad you’re all right. Is my apartment still intact?”

“Yes and no. I didn’t quite make it inside.”

My tone warned Shane something other than listening to messages and collecting mail had gone down.

“What happened?”

“You had visitors. Can we say hit men?”

“What?” Shane stood still for a moment then sank back onto Addie’s couch. “Are you sure?”

“Oh yeah. I got the proverbial earful. They called yesterday’s mugger a moron. His name was Morgan, which isn’t relevant at this point, although it’s a cool name—”

“Holly…”

“—and would work perfectly for the ex-spouse of the drug dealing gang leader’s mother in
Salacity City
—”

“Holly!”

I snapped out of it. “Sorry. Babbling, on a tangent, and still shaking. Anyway, the two gentlemen, and yes, I use the term loosely, were very open about their purpose in life. Find Shane Halloran and the script. I gathered they’d prefer to have you, the script, and whatever else looks interesting in hand for their boss, but would be happy to settle for having you join me in the hereafter as long as they got their hands on the script. I didn’t hear any major yearnings expressed by either goon regarding the cultural merits of owning a copy of Rob’s play.”

Shane took several deep, calming breaths. “No chance this was some other script, then? An old copy of
Ebony Dreams
for some memorabilia freak?” He tried to smile.

“I wish.”

“And you’re positive they’re going after me as Shane and not as Jordan?”

“No chance, no other film, and yes, I’m sure. They want Shane Halloran and will accept no substitute. Ready for more bad news? They found a photo of you and me from years ago. Kind of put the topper on your identity as the real Shane.”

Shane was silent for a moment before stating, “Well, that settles it.
Trapped in the Basement
was definitely the motive behind the killings. Not that we had any doubts.”

“We need to talk to Wynn, Chandra, Rick, and any hangers-on who knew as much as they did. I seriously can’t imagine Chandra was ever a captain in the US Army who collaborated with the Viet Cong, but it’s always possible she was involved with someone in the military.”

Shane’s voice faltered. “God, please tell me none of these folks are stone-cold killers. They were all my friends. Yeah, Wynn was my agent and in it for the money but we got along fine when he wasn’t bitchin’ about you or films. Chandra was nutty about you and me being together, but believe it or not she had some self-esteem issues, and her way of coping was to act like she was a…”

“Bitch?”

“No comment.” The sides of Shane’s mouth twitched.

“Well, before we start slandering anyone, do you remember
anybody
else, apart from Frannie Stutzgraft, who knew as much, or more, about the play as the actors? I remember we didn’t have a stage manager yet, although Derek did have an assistant who was there the day Rob was mugged.”

“Derek had already fired one director and hadn’t hired a new one yet. It was pretty bizarre. The backers were going on blind faith in Derek and Rob’s reputation.”

“I’m not sure bizarre covers it. Honestly? I recall it as a major disaster.”

“You recall correctly. The only good thing is the lack of anything solid to work with back then means not as many folks were involved. It cuts down on suspects. On the other hand, we can’t forget that people have relatives. Spouses. Romantic partners. You mentioned Angela and her brother yesterday. And we need to get the name of Derek’s assistant if nothing more than in the interest of being thorough.”

“Agreed.”

“Plus, we need to find out who was related to whom, or married to whom, or banging whom back in the day.”

“I agree. But, before we do anything else, we have to call Addie.”

Shane grimaced. “She’s in danger now, too, isn’t she? Because of that photograph.”

“Yes.”

“Damn! I never should have come back.”

“Shane! You didn’t start this. Remember? Crimson died before you made it to the American shores. You were led here to find answers. There’s no way to have stopped this from happening. All we can do now is keep you and Addie safe and pray we find a little justice.”

Shane smiled. “True. Thanks.”

“While I’m on a tear, let’s put the blame where it belongs—on whomever Rob recognized. Whoever murdered Crimson Cloverly’s brother while he lay helpless in a hospital bed.” I shuddered. “Rob was going to talk to this traitor, from what Frannie told you. Give him a chance to tell his side. Talk about a crock! But once the killer realized he was about to be outed, everyone connected became expendable. Beginning with Rob. Actually, beginning with Private Mike.”

“Damn this bastard!” Shane spat. “How many lives has he ruined and how many more does he want to take?”

“Even one is too many. I’m going to try my best to make sure yours and Addie’s aren’t next.”

The phone was on the table. I grabbed it as Shane said, “Call. Please. Let’s at least save one life today.”

I dialed Addie’s cell number.

“Yo?”

“Addie, it’s Holly. We have a problem.”

“Just one?” She chuckled. “Did Shane eat all the leftover tandoori chicken and samosas?”

“Well, yes, but that’s not the issue. I’m talkin’ a big problem.”

“Hit me.”

I told her what I’d overheard discussed at Shane’s apartment. “They’ll find you.”

Addie was a bit skeptical. “Hey, we’re not talking about the NSA here. They have to figure out I’m related to you first, and whether I’m still around and where I live.”

“Addie, Shane’s photo as Jordan Matthews appeared in the
Village Voice
on Wednesday morning. Wednesday evening a goon named Morgan, imitating a mugger, was sent to kill him. He skipped the step where he was supposed to see if Shane had a copy of the script, and if so, where it was, but at any rate, I’d call it damned fast work. The person behind all this is connected. Rich enough to hire private assassins who can track down people who wouldn’t normally be easy to trace. Ruthless enough not to give a shit who gets in the way, including aunts who don’t act like senior citizens but are.”

Addie didn’t argue. “What do I need to do? Hell, what are you and Shane going to do?”

“Well, I would suggest you spend the next few days holed up at a hotel under a different name. Preferably in Jamaica, and I don’t mean the neighborhood in Queens. Do you have cash?”

“I do. Withdrew a large chunk from my ATM yesterday. I may be modern but I try to avoid using a credit or debit card. I have enough to worry about. The good news is my last column is in and if I need to use the Internet for anything I can hit a café someplace.”

I cheered. “You, Miss Adelaide, are so cool! Any idea where you’ll go?”

“I’ll come up with a plan. And in case your villains are capable of tracing calls, I’ll use pay phones once I’m someplace safe. Or buy scads of burners. Either way, I’ll call you on the cell I lent you the other night—it’s registered under A. Kennedy. After you hear from me, trash it. Technically, it belongs to the
Chronicle
but who cares? Give me an hour. Love you.”

She hung up.

Shane was petting Boo-Boo. “We need to do the same. Find a place to hole up while we figure this out. And what are we going to do with the pup here?”

“Ah, another reason I love you. Thanks for remembering. Addie has a pet sitter upstairs who’s always delighted to take Boo-Boo at a moment’s notice.”

Shane began to pick up some of Boo-Boo’s toys, then stopped cold. “Are we being crazy, Holly? Are we giving them too much credit? They’re not the NSA.”

“Addie’s very words and I will repeat my response. They had your place of residence as Matthews within hours of identifying you. They could easily have found out about Crimson’s peanut allergy and arranged her accident. They killed Rob. They killed me. They thought they’d killed you. They’re determined.”

“So we have to be just as determined and smarter to put an end to all this. Okay. Let’s get Boo-Boo upstairs, then find a hotel. I learned a long time ago how to hide. Those lessons are going to come in handy once again.”

“Agreed. And, Shane, I do recall you have a fiery temper at times and your first inclination is to smash some heads in, but once we’re holed up,
I
have to be the one who does the investigating outside.”

He started to dispute the plan but I stopped him before he had a chance to say a word. “No arguing. I can’t be seen. You can. Don’t worry about impressing me with your heroism. Yes, you’re big and brave. But let me do something for you for a change.”

Shane muttered, “I hate when you’re right. Fine. So, what are you plotting?”

“I have an evil plan.”

“Yeah? How evil?”

“You, Shane Halloran, are going to call Wynn Davenport, Derek Fergus, Chandra Petrie, and Rick Sueng Tan from an outside line. Shock them all by announcing you’re alive. Then set up a meeting someplace; tell them you’re being hunted and the reason has to do with Rob’s play.”

“Then what?”

“You call and get a conversation going which will hopefully lead to some answers. I’ll be cleverly disguised as a ghost and overhear all. You will be as far away as possible. We can arrange for you to teleconference or Skype or whatever works best so the right questions get asked.”

“Skype, huh? Look who joined the twenty-first century. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you, thank you. I’m a quick study. And Addie’s a good teacher.”

“What if this little chat doesn’t work and we’re left with no clues and four people who now know I’m alive and well?”

“Then we go to Plan B.”

“What’s Plan B?”

“No idea. But I refuse to believe I got sent back only to watch you be murdered. I also refuse to believe you were called back to New York for no reason. There’s a purpose in all of this and when the time comes I’ll do whatever it takes to prevent anyone else from being killed and avenge Rob’s death—and my own. Justice for all.”

“Well, darlin’, it sounds noble and heroic and bloody damned fine. I hope to hell it works.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Shane and I gathered all of Boo-Boo’s toys, food, and dishes. She didn’t have a crate or a basket, which made the load a bit lighter. During the day, Boo-Boo made the couch or the rocking chair her home. She’d been dividing her time at night between my room and Addie’s, although last night the disloyal little mutt had chosen to stay with Shane. Who could blame her?

Shane called Melissa, the pet sitter, whose number was on Addie’s inked-in urgent list next to the kitchen phone. He told her there was an emergency and Addie couldn’t make it home for several days. Work related was the lie. Then he had to reassure Melissa the emergency wasn’t because Addie was laid up in a hospital about to have surgery or recovering from a fall in the subway. Once that was cleared up (well, for the most part) Melissa told him she’d be thrilled to take Boo-Boo for whatever length of stay was needed.

Shane destroyed the contact info, in case Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumber came snooping around the place, and delivered Boo-Boo and her supplies upstairs.

“Melissa is going to get a whopping great tip if Addie and I live through this,” he said when he came back down. “She was a mite curious as to why I brought photos of Addie and Boo-Boo and every toy the dog owned as well.”

“And you said?”

“I told her Addie had received threats about someone dognapping the mutt. I suggested she lie if someone approached her looking to contact Addie. Say it was Boo-Boo’s sister from the same litter or something.”

“I like it. Was she okay with that?”

“After she calmed down she not only agreed, she put a different collar on the pup. Just in case.”

“Melissa’s a sweetheart. Yep. A huge tip is in order. At least we won’t have to worry about an innocent pup getting hurt.”

“So, where do ya want to go, then? And are you at Addie’s computer? I do believe I see a mouse moving.”

“You do. I’m about to check for someplace close where we can hide. Um. Yonkers? Mount Vernon? White Plains? Scarsdale? Something on the Metro North line we can get to without spending an hour or more on the train.”

“Tarrytown.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I called my friend Ben before I left Sydney. Ben helped me hide out back in ’73. So there’s no need to search for a hotel.”

“I’m not. I’m clearing all the history and emails from Addie’s computer starting from the day I dropped in. If this team does manage to break in, I don’t want any trail of our searches online.”

Shane’s tone was one of admiration. “I’m impressed with your sudden tech savvy. Where did you get the idea?”

I finished deleting Addie’s search history from her browser, erased any bookmarks regarding Shane,
Trapped in the Basement
, or the deaths of Rob Stutzgraft, Crimson Cloverly, and Holly Malone, but left all the links pertinent to her job so it wouldn’t seem as if someone was trying to hide information. I shut down the desktop computer. It was password protected, which should also be a deterrent to any snoops.

I answered Shane’s question. “The idea to delete? Simple. DVDs.
Enemy of the State
.
Three Days of the Condor
. The entire
Bourne
trilogy…”

“Wow. You really did watch the most important films of the last forty years.”

“And apparently absorbed more tips on espionage stuff than I realized.”

Shane started laughing. “My own little superspy. I suppose I should have paid more attention to a film script Wynn sent me to look over in ’71. The lead was an ordinary chap who got caught up in some big espionage deal with Russia and had to go into hiding. At the time I was offered the part I told myself it was the most ridiculous plot imaginable. Now it seems tame.”

We spent the next half hour gathering the things we needed for going on the run. I found a hat I remembered belonged to my dad, one of his work jackets, and a pair of old black-rimmed frames without the lenses in them all tucked in the back of the hall closet. I didn’t know why Addie’d kept these but it was nice to find a disguise in case Shane needed one.

I grabbed Addie’s keys from a drawer in the kitchen, and we headed down to the lobby. As we rounded the corner, I hissed, “Stop!” at Shane in a stage whisper.

He stopped. “What?”

“Déjà vu again.”

“Elaborate?”

“I have a feeling someone’s here. The guys who were at your place earlier—I’m almost positive they’re at the front door. Hang on a sec.”

I cautiously peered into the lobby. “Damn! I hate being right! They’re trying to pick the lock.”

Shane glanced around. “Do the stairs lead to the basement or is it elevator access only?”

“Stairs, too. Great idea. I’m right behind you.”

Shane and I ran down to the basement, which housed the laundry facilities but also led to both the building’s courtyard and a long hall connecting our building, A, with its sister, B, on the opposite end.

We didn’t speak until we were in the basement of Building B. The dryers in B were arranged across from small windows so we should be able to see the thugs exit.

“I have to hand it to you for your timely premonition. And hand it to them for efficiency. We were at Addie’s less than two hours before they showed up,” Shane said with a mix of amazement and anger.

“Yeah. Things are moving fast. I guess we need to do the same. Should we set up the big meeting for this evening? Call everyone now before heading to Tarrytown?”

Shane sank down onto a bench in front of the industrial-sized dryer and pulled his cell out of the duffel bag I’d given him. “Do you have the numbers? I can save some time and let our two goons get some distance from here before we venture out.”

“Good idea.” I handed him a small paper. “I didn’t print them out. My paranoia has reached new heights.”

“Are we putting these folks in danger, then? I don’t want to be responsible for anyone getting hurt,” Shane said.

“Ten to one they’re already in danger, as is anyone connected with the play. We’re actually doing them a favor warning them.”

“Terrible way to put it, but I get it. Okay. End of Jordan Matthews. Where are we meeting?”

“What about O’Bannion’s?”

“Makes sense. It’s close to the theatre. You and Rob met there more than anywhere else to work on his script.”

“I didn’t actually remember that. I only thought of it because I noticed it the day I followed you.”

“O’Bannion’s it is, then.” He quietly added, “Holly, you and I made some memories there as well, but we’ll talk about those later. Damn! I wish I could go with you. I could use a few pints right now.”

“I’m sure there’s a pub in Tarrytown.”

“I’d rather be hoisting a brew with you.” He grinned. “As I recall, you weren’t big on beer or ale. Far more keen on those foo-foo drinks like mai tais and margaritas.”

I quietly said, “I’d gladly try whatever concoction you wanted if it meant we could be together.”

Shane reached out for me. I took his hand and squeezed as hard as I could.

“Shane,” I whispered. “I see our stalkers leaving Building A. They must not have figured out B is connected. At least not yet. So we’re safe for a while.”

“Good. Time to get to work.”

Shane called Chandra, Wynn, Rick, and Derek. I was a bit surprised that they all answered and were in the area. Each one expressed astonishment and elation hearing that Shane was alive and back in Manhattan. They also agreed to meet, although there was some confusion as to why Shane needed to get this particular group together, and with such urgency.

Shane made a face. “Well, there’s four people I just freaked out. Damn. This keeps getting stranger and stranger.” He took a deep breath. “Okay, luv, I guess it’s time I’m off to Tarrytown.”

I gave him Addie’s keys. “I’ll head down to O’Bannion’s and find an empty spot near our buddies. You’re calling Wynn and starting an interesting conversation once you’re sure all the players are there, right?”

“You’d best believe it.”

“I suppose we need to buy some burner phones before all this goes down? I saw that in a movie, too. I can’t waltz into a store and plunk down any cash but we need to have a way to stay in touch and we can’t involve your friend’s landline or your old cell phone.”

“Which we’ll also need to dump somewhere.” Shane then remarked with much admiration, “You really are turnin’ into the spy of the century, aren’t you? Every agency with initials would hire you in an instant. Hell, you could infiltrate every group needin’ infiltration and never be spotted. See? There are perks to being a ghost!”

We peeked out of Building B’s courtyard gate, which led to a sidewalk. I went out first and took a good look around, then popped back inside. “I didn’t see our bad guys, so we should be good to go.”

We hurried toward the park then cut through the trails to get to the other side. The garage where we’d parked Addie’s car was across the street from several shops, including a wireless phone store. Shane took the opportunity to make some purchases while I kept lookout.

“Any problems?” I asked him.

“Well, when I asked for so many phones I got one of those ‘are you a drug dealer?’ looks—even at my age—but I told the kid behind the counter my five grandkids each needed a phone. How many do you want?”

“Just one.”

We headed toward the garage. “Do you want me to drive you down to the pub?”

“Much as I would love to keep your company, I don’t want you anywhere near the pub before this meeting. I’ll take the train. Please, just get to Tarrytown and stay safe.” I gave him what passed for a hug. “I love you so much, and if we stay here any longer I’ll just lose it and suggest we both hide out in Australia for the rest of our lives. Well, your life.”

Shane’s voice cracked. “I love you too. And I’d rather have you near me as a wisp of a spirit than lose you for good.”

I sniffed. “I agree. But Rob and Crimson deserve justice and Addie shouldn’t live in fear for the rest of her life. You’ve been hiding out for far too long, Shane. It’s time to make a stand. Go, please. Before either of us caves to the selfish side.”