Death on a Silver Platter (18 page)

“We haven’t had a chance to talk about it.” He hoisted another shot.

“So you’re in the middle. Elaine wants you to do one thing, and your lover wants another. And you, being a good son, are still trying to please Mama.”

“Don’t be an ass. It’s not that simple.”

“I figured that, not that I understand all the ins and outs.” Danny swirled the liquid in his shot glass, but didn’t take a sip. “You realize, don’t you, that controlling you is Marchand’s ticket to fame and fortune. His
only
ticket.”

“Just can that talk, okay? Roman fell in love with
me.
Not my bank account. And also . . . because I’m such a dynamic businessman.”

“He told you that?”

“Many times. He’s drawn to power and money. So what? He wants to be a player, Danny. He freely admits that. He also says he’s given up everything to be with me. His wife. His company. If I let him down now, he’ll have lost everything.”

“What bullshit. That’s nothing but emotional blackmail. You
saved
his company by buying it and then hiring him to run it. And if his wife was that important to him, he wouldn’t have left her. If he really loved you, he wouldn’t force you to do something you’re dead set against.”

“He says I’m afraid of success, that in some twisted part of my psyche I don’t want to outshine my father.”

“Oh,
pullease
.”

Alex laughed. “That’s exactly what I think.” Tossing back another shot, he continued, “If I want to sell the company, will you back me? Elaine will be against it, but the two of us could outvote her.”

Danny was torn. “I . . . I don’t know. I guess I’d have to think about it.”

“She’ll say I just want to take the money and run. That I talked a good game but my heart was never in it.”

“Is that true?”

“What if it is?” He set the shot glass down, then stared at it.

Danny had barely touched his drink. Before his bout with cancer, he’d been a much heavier drinker. But in the past few years, his desire for alcohol had diminished. He didn’t need artificial stimulants to get him high. Just being alive did it now.

“Listen,” said Alex, bending closer to Danny. “If I tell you a secret, you’ve got to promise to keep quiet. Okay?”

“Okay,” said Danny. He could tell his brother was getting a little tight.

“Mom . . . well, see . . . she told me something before she died. It’s the reason why she wanted to sell the company.”

“Give.”

“She said she should have sold it a long time ago, but it meant so much to Elaine and me.”

“Then why sell at all?”

“Because . . . legally, it was never hers.”

Danny narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Dad made her sign a legal document before they were married. I don’t know if you’d call it a prenuptial agreement, but that’s what it was in effect. In it, she signed away all rights to his company. If they got divorced, or if he died, the company would be held in trust for his children. Mom would have been taken care of financially, but she would never have inherited the business.”

“You mean that old dragon scammed us? The company was
always
ours?”

Alex nodded.

Danny was stunned into silence.

“Except, after Dad’s death, the document couldn’t be found.”

“Yeah, right. She probably destroyed it.”

“It’s possible, I suppose, but I think she was telling me the truth. She said there was only one copy and that Dad kept it in his bottom desk drawer—a locked drawer. After he died, it was missing. Actually, I remember her searching through the house for weeks after his death. She seemed frantic. At the time, she didn’t tell me what she was looking for. But she finally did a few days ago, when we had that meeting. She maintains she never found it.”

“It’s moot now.”

“Actually, it isn’t,” said Alex. He topped off Danny’s drink, then poured himself another. “There’s a clause in the document that could have major bearing on our inheritance—if the thing ever showed up. That’s why Mom wanted to sell the company. She told me we needed to liquidate and get the money offshore as fast as possible. Just in case.”

“In case this document ever surfaces.”

“Exactly.”

“Did she have some reason to think it would?”

“No, but she wanted her children to have clear title to the money before she died. If we inherited through her will, it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“I don’t understand. What’s the clause in the prenup that had negative bearing on our inheritance?”

Downing the drink, he said, “It was the sentence that talks about Dad’s business being held in trust for his children, the ‘issue of his body.’ ”

“Yeah? Where’s the problem with that?”

“Mom told me that she had an affair while they were married.”

Danny closed his eyes. He knew what was coming next.

“One of us isn’t his kid.”

24

Sophie had been sleeping fiftfully when a knock on the front door woke her. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand and saw that it was two-twenty in the morning. Across from the foot of the bed, the TV was still on, the sound off, the picture so bright it hurt her eyes.

For a moment, she felt disoriented. She reached out her hand to touch Bram, but his side of the bed was empty. And then she remembered the fight they’d had. Bram had come back from swimming, changed his clothes, and left to get some dinner on his own. He hadn’t returned until nearly eleven. He walked into the living room and said that he knew they needed to talk things through, but that he was too tired to get into it again tonight. He grabbed his pillow and went to sleep in the spare bedroom.

Sophie sat up in bed for the next few hours, worrying and eating potato chips while she watched TV. She finally fell asleep. She wasn’t sure when, but it felt like about five minutes ago.

By the time she’d slipped into her robe, Bram was already in the hallway.

“Who the hell do you suppose is out there?” he asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“If they don’t stop that banging,” said Sophie, “they’re going to wake the entire sixteenth floor.”

Bram reached the door first. Swinging it open, Margie nearly jumped into his arms.

“Dad, you’ve got to come. Hurry!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him out the door.

“What’s going on?” asked Sophie, switching on a light.

“It’s Tracy,” said Margie. “She’s in my apartment. Come on! There’s no time to talk.”

They took the service elevator down because it was closer to Margie’s apartment. When they reached the twelfth floor, Margie led them through the front door and into her bedroom.

“Oh, my God,” said Sophie, covering her mouth with her hand. The scene that met her eyes was one of destruction. Two of Margie’s floor lamps were shattered and bent. An empty sack of cheese curls lay crushed beneath an overturned chair, the contents of the bag strewn about like confetti. The bedspread was half on the bed, half on the floor. Drawers were pulled out and dumped. The room was in shambles.

Tracy lay across the bed, flat on her back, arms at her sides, her eyes closed.

“Is she—” Sophie couldn’t finish the sentence.

Bram bent over her, feeling for a pulse in her neck. “She’s alive, but just barely.” He pointed to the marks on her throat. “Looks like someone tried to strangle her. We better call nine-one-one.”

“I already did,” said Margie. She looked terrified.

“What happened?” asked Bram, turning around. “Who did this to her?”

Margie took a step backward. “I don’t know. Honestly. I just got home a few minutes ago and I found her like that. I called the paramedics and then I came up to get you.”

“How did Tracy get in here?” asked Sophie.

Margie eyed her furtively. “Well, she . . . ah, called me this afternoon. Asked if she could crash at my place tonight. I told her sure. No problem. But I wouldn’t be home until late. I left a key for her at the concierge desk.”

First Mick spends the night, thought Sophie, and now Tracy. Margie had to know more than she was letting on.

“Honey,” said Bram, not even trying to hide his exasperation, “Tracy’s mother has been going crazy looking for her. The poor woman is beside herself with worry. You should have told me you knew where she was.”

“I realize that now,” said Margie, her voice turning to a whine. “I’m sorry, Dad. But she made me promise I wouldn’t tell. She said she needed a base of operations— just for the night.”

“What did
that
mean?” said Bram.

“How should I know?”

“Is there anything we can do for her?” asked Sophie, moving a bit closer to the bed. Only one lamp remained in the room, and it didn’t give off much light. “I suppose I should alert the front desk that the paramedics are on their way.”

“I don’t think we should touch her or anything else in this room, for that matter,” said Bram. “This is a crime scene now. You better use the house phone in the hall.”

“Where are those paramedics?” said Margie, glancing toward the door. She was a bouncing ball of nerves.

“I should call Elaine, too,” said Sophie. “She’s got a long drive ahead of her if she’s going to meet us at the emergency room.”

Sophie was on her way out when Bram said, “Hey, what’s this?” He stepped over to the dresser and crouched down. On the floor next to a couple of cheese curls was a man’s tie clasp. “Is this yours?” he asked, looking up at his daughter.

Margie walked over. “No, I’ve never seen it before.”

“I have,” said Sophie. It was a simple gold bar with a bucking horse attached at the center. “It belongs to Zander. I saw it on him the other day when I was at Prairie Lodge.”

“Do you think he’s the one who did this to Tracy?” asked Margie.

“There’s no sign of forced entry,” said Bram. “I checked the lock on the way in. If Zander attacked her, she must have opened the door to him. I assume that means she wasn’t afraid of him.”

“Margie?” Sophie waited until she had the young woman’s full attention before continuing. “One question before I go. When I let the movers in here yesterday, I found Mick Frye asleep on the couch. He said he’d spent the night. That was two nights ago. Was Tracy with him?”

Margie looked startled. Facing her dad, she said, “No, it was just Mick. Really. He doesn’t have a dime, Dad. I told him he could stay if he slept on the floor. But when I got home, he was gone. He was looking for Tracy, too. We all were. I thought, if I had a chance to talk to her tonight, maybe I could convince her to contact Mick.”

“But not her mom,” said Sophie.

“No, her mom, too. But when I got here”—she glanced over at the bed—“I never thought this would happen.”

“Do you know if she planned to meet someone here?” asked Bram. The sternness in his voice made it clear he wasn’t happy with his daughter’s actions.

“Not that I know of.”

“She didn’t say anything about Zander coming by?”

“Not a word.”

Just then, something else caught Bram’s attention. Getting down on his hands and knees, he crawled toward the bed.

“What is it?” said Sophie, almost afraid to ask.

“Jesus. It’s a gun.” The barrel was poking out about half an inch.

Bram looked up at his daughter. “Did you know she was armed when you told her she could stay here?”

“No!”

Sophie didn’t buy it. If Mick had been willing to give Sophie that piece of information without being pressed, he undoubtedly told Margie about it, too—and probably much more. Sophie had the sense that Margie was the repository of a great deal of information she wasn’t willing to share. It left Sophie wondering why. Margie had been Mick’s friend in high school, but how on earth had she grown so fond of Tracy so fast? What was the connection? And if Mick was so penniless yesterday, maybe he was still around. He insisted that he loved Tracy, but when money was involved, was it ever that simple?

“All she told me was that she needed to hide,” said Margie. “She didn’t figure anybody would look for her here.”

“Well, Zander knew where to find her.”

“Maybe she thought she was safe because she had a gun,” said Sophie.

“God, I wish those paramedics would get here.” Margie walked over to the window and looked down at the street. “Hey, there they are!”

Hurrying out of the apartment, Sophie ran into four men pushing a gurney around the bend in the hallway. She pointed them toward Margie’s door, then continued on to the end of the hall where the courtesy phone was located. All the while she kept wondering how she would break the news to Elaine.

25

The lights in the emergency room blazed. Sophie and Bram sat in the waiting room close to the sliding front doors in order to catch Elaine as soon as she arrived. The paramedics confirmed Bram’s suspicion that Tracy had been strangled. They called it a “ligature assault.” The loss of oxygen to her brain and the condition of the air passages in her neck seemed to be their most immediate concern. Tracy didn’t appear to have any broken bones, but they weren’t sure about internal injuries, and they couldn’t wake her. Her blood pressure was unusually low, and her heartbeat rapid, neither of which were good signs. Until she was checked over by a doctor, nothing further could be determined.

But Tracy was alive, thought Sophie. For now, everyone needed to hold on to that.

Margie was off finding a soda. She promised to bring coffee back for Bram, but she’d been gone so long, Sophie figured she’d forgotten. Bram had taken hold of Sophie’s hand when they’d entered the hospital, and he’d kept on holding it. Sophie was grateful. She knew he was still angry at her, but he had the maturity to know that this wasn’t her fault. At a time like this, they both needed the comfort of human connection.

Forty-five minutes to the dot after Sophie had placed the call to Elaine, Elaine walked through the doors into the emergency room. She held herself tightly, as if movement itself were the enemy.

Sophie and Bram stood.

“Where is she?” asked Elaine. Her voice belied her physical composure. She was barely holding it together.

“The doctors are working on her,” said Sophie.

“I need to speak to whoever’s in charge.”

“There was a nurse here just a moment ago,” said Bram. “Maybe she could give you more information.”

While they talked, the doors opened again. This time Nathan walked in. He looked rumpled and unshaven, as if he’d just gotten out of bed.

Bram let go of Sophie’s hand.

“He drove me,” said Elaine, looking around until she spotted the nursing desk. “I couldn’t drive myself. I would have ended up in a ditch.”

“Nice of you,” muttered Bram.

Nathan nodded. “Least I could do.”

“He was at my place,” said Elaine, offhandedly. “If you’ll excuse me.” She hurried over to the desk and spoke briefly with the man sitting behind it. He pulled out a chart and glanced at it, then buzzed Elaine back into the main part of the emergency room.

Bram, Sophie, and Nathan sat down.

If Sophie had tried, she couldn’t have come up with a more awkward situation. She supposed she could take the bull by the horns, take responsibility for the conversation and introduce a subject, but nobody wanted to talk, so she just sat and looked around.

Finally, being the one who was the least ill-at-ease, Nathan said, “Elaine told me that Tracy was strangled.”

Sophie nodded.

“She also said you found one of Zander’s tie clasps in the bedroom. I always figured that guy was kind of hinkey.” He shook his head. “Wouldn’t it be ironic if it turned out the butler did it?”

“He’s
not
a butler,” said Sophie.

“The police are over at the hotel right now,” said Bram, stretching his arms to release some tension. “Searching the apartment. Maybe they’ll find something more.”

“I hope so,” said Sophie. “I imagine they’ll pick Zander up for questioning first thing in the morning.”

“They’ll pick him up before that,” said Bram.

“You bet they will,” said Nathan.

They were ganging up on her now.

“I wonder where Margie is,” said Sophie.

Bram checked his watch. “It’s going on four. Want me to go find her?”

Before Sophie could answer, Elaine reappeared. She looked unsteady on her feet as she walked toward them.

“What is it?” said Sophie, rising to meet her.

Elaine swallowed before speaking. “Tracy’s . . . in a coma. And she’s got several fractured ribs. One of them punctured her right lung.”

“Oh, God,” said Sophie. “Is a punctured lung serious?”

“Yes,” said Elaine. “But they think they’ve got it under control. They did a procedure with a syringe, took out some fluid, and they’ve got her on oxygen. She’ll be restricted to bed. That won’t be a problem because she’s not awake yet. If she were, the doctor said she’d most likely be in a lot of pain.”

“Then I’m glad she can sleep through this part of it,” said Sophie.

Elaine closed her eyes. “Yeah, me, too. The doctor said her breathing is okay, but they’re worried about complications. He explained a whole range of potential problems they have to watch for. My mind just shut off. I couldn’t take it all in.” She started to cry.

“Just take it as it comes,” said Nathan, putting his hands on her shoulders. “I know this is hard, but you’re doing great.” He folded his arms around her.

“I’ve got to stay strong . . . be there for my daughter when she needs me.”

“And you will be,” said Nathan. “You will be.”

She sniffed a couple of times, then backed up. “They’re doing a neck X ray right now. When they’re done, they’re moving her to intensive care.”

“I want to see her,” said a voice from behind them.

When Sophie looked up, she saw Mick standing with Margie. So that’s where she’d been. Had she called him, or had Mick been lurking in the shadows all along?

“Get out of here,” said Elaine. She was angry and he was a safe target.

“No.” He stood up to her, glaring at her defiantly.

“You have no business bothering my daughter anymore. You’re out of her life.”

“You might have fired me, Elaine, but it doesn’t change how I feel.”

“That’s right,” said Margie. She moved closer to him.

“Do you think I give a rat’s ass how you feel?” said Elaine. “If you’d cared about her, you wouldn’t have let her leave my mother’s house. She was safe there.”

“No, she wasn’t,” said Mick. “You, of all people, should know that.”

“That’s why I installed that bodyguard on her door.”

“Not enough.”

“After you drugged her!” shouted Elaine.

“He has a right to see her,” said Margie.

“This isn’t your problem.” Bram stepped between Elaine and Mick.

“Tell them,” insisted Margie. “Tell them the truth.”

“Nobody gets in to see my daughter unless I say so,” barked Elaine.

“Afraid that’s not the way it works.” Mick seemed to be enjoying the moment. “See, Tracy and I . . . we’re married. She’s my wife. Nobody’s going to keep me from seeing my wife, Elaine. Not even you.”