Protecting Lulu (Global Protection Agency) (28 page)

“I’m
trying to be diplomatic about Marcia.”

“Say
what’s on your mind,” Noah coaxed.

“I
don’t like her and I feel guilty that I don’t like her,” Lulu burst out. She
clapped her hand over her mouth. She’d never said that to anyone, even Wilder
or Julia. She’d always put a positive spin on everything and Noah always seemed
capable of goading her into revealing her deep dark secrets. She wasn’t sure
how to feel about the power he seemed to have over her.

Marcia
Bennington lived in an apartment overlooking Central Park. Noah found a parking
spot a block away. He and Ian walked back to the building.

“Do
you have any idea what you just did to Lulu?” Ian asked as they pushed through
a crowd waiting for the bus.

“What
do you mean?” Noah side-stepped a young woman walking a bunch of dogs.

“You
have a lot of power over her. You forced Lulu to be uncomfortably honest with
you.”

“I
don’t want to talk about it.” Maybe keeping things on a professional level
wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but it was the smartest. Especially when all he
wanted to do was to pull her into his arms and soothe her.

“Nice,”
Ian said looking up as they approached the polished brass door.

The
doorman, wearing a name tag stenciled Norman on it, asked them their names. When
they told him, he gave them a sympathetic look.

“Miss
Lulu informed me you would be coming over,” Norman said in a cultured accent
not too far from Ian’s very proper British accent.

Ian
nodded gracefully, but Noah was taken aback. “She did?”

“She
wanted me to remind you to be very careful with Mrs. Bennington.”

“Consider
us reminded,” Ian said. “You don’t seem to like her much either.”

Norman
looked a little uneasy. “She’s an evil witch even Satan doesn’t like her. If
not for Miss Lulu, I’d be out of here in a second. She pays me extremely well, and
trusts me, I deserve it, putting up with that old witch.” In a broad Bronx
accent, he said, “Before ya leave, check your balls. She’d have them on a
platter if she could.”

Not
good, Noah thought as Ian punched the button for the elevator. “I feel like a
gladiator about to die for someone’s amusement.”

“I
feel like a bug about to meet a windshield,” Noah said as the elevator doors
slid open.

Inside
the elevator was all quiet, unassuming elegance with mirrored panels interspersed
with elegant wood and polished brass handrails along the sides. The carpet was
a plush red with an intricate gold pattern and so deep even Noah couldn’t help
admiring it. Nothing shouted money like a Central Park West address with a view
of Central Park.

Noah
rang the doorbell of the penthouse apartment and a middle aged woman with
iron-gray hair wrapped around her head opened the door. She wore a calf-length black
dress with a lace apron as though she were a refugee from a 1930s movie. At
least she didn’t curtsey. She didn’t smile either. She glanced up and down at
Noah and Ian as though they were unwashed immigrants.

“Mr.
Callahan and Mr. Richardson,” she said, blue eyes darting back and forth
between them.

Noah
nodded. “We’re here to see Mrs. Bennington.”

“This
way please,” the woman said as she stepped aside. “Madam is expecting you.”

They
walked into the apartment and Noah couldn’t help but admire the richness of the
marble foyer with a table in the center almost hidden beneath a huge vase of
flowers. The marble floor was white with black and gray threads, the paneling
dark brown, and the flowers all shades of yellow. A long hall was visible
behind the flowers.

The
woman led them down the hall and turned into a living room decorated in shades
of creams and browns. The brown paneled walls rose to ten foot ceilings which
were also paneled. In the center of the ceiling an intricate mural had been
painted.

Ian
glanced up and Noah tried not to follow suit. Even though he wasn’t up on his
art, he knew Art Nouveau when he saw it. E.J. was a good teacher. He even
recognized some of the paintings hanging on the walls, even though he couldn’t
identify the artists.

A
woman uncoiled from a corner of the white upholstered sofa and stood up, her
eyebrows slightly raised in curiosity. She closed a magazine and set it on the white
table next to her. White hair curled fashionably about her slender face and
diamonds sparkled in her ears, on her fingers, and around her wrist. She was
slender and immaculately dressed in a dark gray dress with an almost girlish
red ribbon and bow at her waist that Noah had to admit suited her look. His
notes said she was seventy-nine, but she didn’t look a day over fifty with her
flawless makeup, smooth skin and dark brown eyes. She looked like a gracefully
aging model, impeccably groomed right down the clear polish on her fingernails.
This rarified world made him uncomfortable. He couldn’t help comparing this
condo with Lulu’s comfortable, warm brownstone. This place was a museum.

“Mr.
Callahan,” she said in a soft, cultured voice.

Noah’s
throat went dry. “Mrs. Bennington,” he croaked.

She
gave a slight laugh. “Please, call me Marcia.” She looked inquiringly at Ian.

“Ian
Richardson,” he said in a clipped, cultured tone that matched hers.

Noah
felt out-classed. She held out a hand to Ian and he took it delicately and bent
over the tips of her fingers as though she were the Queen of England.

“Oh
my,” Marcia Bennington said to Ian, with a faint crimson blush rising across
her cheeks. “You have lovely manners. Your mother taught you well. It’s been a
long time since I met a gentleman of your stature.” She indicated two
over-stuffed white chairs and Noah perched himself uncomfortably in one.

“Tea,
Helen,” Mrs. Bennington said.

The
woman, Helen, withdrew silently without uttering one word. Noah remembered the
doorman’s comments and waited for the real Marcia Bennington to come out and
play. Despite her refined manners she seemed cold and brittle with blue eyes
steadily assessing him and finding him wanting.

“What
is the purpose of your visit?” she finally asked after a long silence.

“There
have been a few incidents involving Ms. Bennington and she was concerned about
you.”

“If
she were so concerned she could have come to see me herself.” Her voice was
cold and restrained as though she wanted to say something nasty.

“She
wanted to, Mrs. Bennington,” Ian said smoothly, “but her security detail is
curtailing her outings except for those events she must attend.”

Besides,
who wants to come see you, you icy bitch
, Noah thought. Ian gave him a look that told
Noah he knew exactly what Noah was thinking.

“Really,
I can’t see anyone curtailing Lulu,” Marcia said in a brittle tone.

“Mr.
Callahan has done an exceptional job,” Ian replied, laughter in his eyes. His
mouth quirked as he held his amusement in.

Marcia
gave Noah a cool look. “What exactly has been happening?”

“Unfortunately,
for security reasons, I can’t give you any details. We do know she’s being
stalked and we are concerned that stalker has targeted some other family
members.”

“How
would I know?” she asked.

“Have
you received any strange phone calls, had the sense of being watched or
followed, maybe even found gifts you don’t remember purchasing.”

“If
there were, would I get you for a bodyguard,” she said archly.

Go
ahead, answer this one, Ian,
Noah thought, enjoying the play of emotion
passing over Ian’s face.

“I
do apologize, but I’m not available.”

“More’s
the pity,” Marcia said.

She
didn’t even bother asking Noah. He could tell she would never consider him
appropriate guard material for her.

The
housekeeper returned with a tray set with three cups, a tea pot, sugar and
creamers. She poured tea into a cup and handed one to each of them. Then she
turned again and silently left the room. The china was delicate and expensive. Noah
took one look at the tea cup and knew he would never get his finger through the
handle. Finally he set the cup and saucer on the side table next to him.

Marcia
looked a bit like a greyhound
. Sleek, nervous, and over-bred or maybe that
was inbred,
Noah thought. He glanced at Ian who simply smiled at Marcia
Bennington. Ian was completely at ease as though he took tea and crumpets with
strange women every day of the week.

“There’s
been nothing unusual in my life,” Marcia said after a delicate sip of tea. “I
wake up in the morning, have breakfast in bed, prepare for my day and attend my
functions. Sometimes I have dinner at home with a friend, or go out with a
friend. I have several charity events every week. Then I shop.”

“You
have exquisite taste,” Ian said warmly.

Marcia
gave him a slight smile that barely moved her lips. “Thank you.”

”We
have to look at all possible angles. Are there any new men in your life?”

She
gave him a girlish tilt of her head. “No,” she said, “but for the right man,
I’d make a spot on my social calendar.” She took a sip of her tea and sat gracefully
waiting for them to talk. “Had I been in charge of Lulu and Wilder’s upbringing
they wouldn’t have to worry about stalkers. In my day, it was unheard of for
menials to stalk their betters. This has everything to do with her being in the
public eye. I told her not to do a talk show. Modeling was one thing, but being
on television—how unrefined.”

Noah
almost laughed. Lulu was real. She wasn’t a pampered pet. She wasn’t sleek. Lulu
was open and warm-hearted and filled with life. Marcia was a pale imitation of
life. Yes, Marcia was beautiful, but she looked more like a hand-crafted doll
with porcelain and glass eyes. Noah would take Lulu any day of the week.

She
cast another flirting glance at Ian. “I just can’t see someone stalking her, she
hasn’t maintained herself.” Marcia took a sip of tea holding her cup daintily
in one hand.

Noah
almost flinched. Ian’s face went blank and Noah decided it would be bad to beat
the old lady over the head. In his opinion, Lulu looked terrific. What gave
Marcia the right to be so critical?

Marcia
sighed. “If only her mother were still alive. Gabrielle was a wonderful girl,
impeccable breeding, and so beautiful, even though she was French. Lulu would
never have turned out the way she is. I wish I had gotten custody of the
children.”

“I
thought your son was trying to get custody of them,” Ian said.

She
smiled a little tightly. “Yes, of course, but he would have needed a woman’s
touch. Julia was not a good guardian for them. She sent them to public schools,
public universities. Julia denied Lulu a debutante ball, forgoing her chance to
take her proper place in society.” Marcia shuddered delicately.

“To
some people those things are not important,” Ian said in a polite tone.

Marcia
lifted her chin high. “We’re Benningtons; those things are of the utmost
importance.”

Along
with the money, Noah thought uncharitably. He watched Ian. Despite Ian’s
composure, Noah could tell he didn’t like this woman. He remained polite, but
his last comment was almost insulting.

“What
do you remember about the parents’ murder?”

She
stiffened slightly. “Such a tragedy. I’m sure their murder has nothing to do
with what is going on now. That was twenty-two years ago.”

“Miss
Bennington’s life is at stake, we must be thorough,” Noah replied.

She
flicked a glance at him as though deciding whether she wanted to talk to him or
not. “I understand and I appreciate your concern. I’m sure Lulu wouldn’t be in
this position if she weren’t so…visible.”

No
matter how she tried to hide it, this woman had rage. From her body language,
he had the feeling she was concealing something. What did she have to hide? He
pushed the thought to the back of his head.

“Thank
you for your time, you’ve been incredibly helpful,” Ian said.

Marcia
dimpled slightly. “If I can do anything for you, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Your
servant, madam,” Ian said formally as he rose to his feet.

Blah,
blah, blah, Noah thought as he stood. He needed to get out of this
claustrophobic place.

Marcia
reached for a small button almost hidden on the leg of the side table. Helen
appeared immediately. “My guests are leaving,” Marcia said.

Helen
nodded and stood aside.

“Thank
you for the visit,” Marcia said graciously.

Noah
just wanted to get out. He headed toward the door as Ian bent over Marcia’s
extended hand, his lips brushing her knuckles.

In
the elevator, Noah leaned against the railing while Ian let out a long, long
torturous breath.