Randall #02 - Ghost Writers in the Sky (36 page)

“
Elegant,” Marva said after a moment. “A nice, lemony mousse. With a hint of vanilla and pear.” She handed me the big bottle.

Maybe her plan was the best one after all. I hefted the bottle to my lips. It was delicious.

I tried to pass it to Donna, but she shoved it back at me.

“
I don’t want to calm down. What makes you think any stable guys can hear us in here? We’re going to die. Why do these Bozos want to kill us? We haven’t done a damned thing! And Duncan used to be my boyfriend…”

I reminded her we’d just heard them confess to murder and kidnapping.

“
Yeah. I guess.” Donna accepted the bottle after all. “Can you believe Duncan killed Ernesto because he thought he was Plantagenet Smith? Ernie died because of that stupid blond hairdo. It so totally did not work with his coloring.”

 “
Actually, he died because Duncan Fowler is a heavily armed two-year old,” Marva said. “Poor Duncan. He’s always had anger management issues. Walker bullies him and then he takes his anger out on everybody else—especially other drivers. Who gives a gun to a guy with road rage?”

Talk of road rage made me think of Rick and I realized he’d be wondering what happened to us—and his car. He’d start looking…but, probably not here. The reality of our situation fell on me with its full weight. We really could die in here.

 “
Duncan always wanted a Ferrari,” Marva said. “But Walker hates Italian cars. That’s probably why Duncan was so jealous.”

Donna sighed loudly.

“
This totally sucks. Are you two just going to sit here and, like, have a chat fest while we’re freezing to death?” She banged on the door again. “Duncan, you bastard! Get us out of here, now!”

Marva laughed. “Go ahead and jump around and warm yourself up, sweetie, but don’t expect that man to save your life. Even if he has a modicum of affection for you, he has no mind of his own.”

I had another cheering thought. Plantagenet and Silas knew I was here at Duncan’s house. Once they missed me, they’d come looking.

Except they were on their way to the county jail and didn’t intend to come back until Gaby was released—which probably wouldn’t be until tomorrow.

“
He was my boyfriend. We have history, Duncan and me.” Donna said.

 “
You were his beard,” Marva said. “Can’t you see that the only thing that ever mattered to that man was Walker Montgomery?”

 “
I don’t get it. Walker Montgomery is a geezer, and he treats Duncan like shit. Duncan is a pundit, for God’s sake!” Donna seemed to be chugging the champagne now.

Marva gave a rough laugh.

“
As a practicing dominatrix, I can tell you that most relationships are sado-masochistic in one way or another. Some of us are just more honest about it. Those two murderers out there have been locked in an S/M game for fifty years that makes everything I’ve done look totally vanilla.”

“
You’re one of those…? You beat people for a living?” Donna said. “That is way too kinkizoid for me. Is that what Jonathan Kahn likes? He hired you to hurt him?”

“
No. He hired me to spank him. Camilla here, she’s the one who hurt him.”

 
This was so completely uncalled for, I nearly choked on my mouthful of champagne.

“
Me? I hurt Jonathan? In case you haven’t been on this planet for the last year, Marva, he’s the one who cheated—with cheap street hookers, for goodness sake. I never cheated. I adored him!” I did not want to re-live all that hurt and humiliation at this point. What was Marva’s game?

“
He loved you, too. Still does. Why do you think he hired me to impersonate you?”

“
I—have no idea.” I hadn’t let my mind dwell on that. I wasn’t sure I wanted to. “Where’s that bottle?”

“
Here you go,” said Marva, thrusting the cold bottle neck in my hand. “Jonathan married Camilla Randall and ended up with Dr. Manners. Kind of hard to live up to the good doctor’s standards, you know. She’s so perfect, she’s scary.”

“
He was afraid of the Manners Doctor?” I took a big gulp of champagne. And another. But as I thought about it, a knot of anger in my belly started to dissolve. “Maybe you’re right. Sometimes I’m afraid of the Doctor myself.”

 “
How about a little champagne over here?” said Donna. “I was not a beard, you guys. I knew Duncan had something going on with Walker, but we hooked up, Duncan and me. Sort of. I mean oral stuff. That’s what most old guys want anyway, isn’t it?”

Donna and Marva giggled, but their giggles had a brittle, hysterical edge. I tried to remember exactly what I had said to Plant and Silas and if it was possible Rick might call them if we didn’t show up soon.

“
Okay,” Donna said. “So Duncan killed Ernie out of road rage because he thought he was Plantagenet Smith. But which one of them killed Toby?” She let out a hiccup.

“
Yeah, that’s weird,” Marva said. “Walker almost sounded like he was telling the truth about that. I can’t figure out why Walker would have killed Toby before he got the letters back. Maybe Toby was killed by some gang after all.”

“
That’s stupid,” Donna said. “The Viboras would not do a guy with a frying pan. Besides—I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but my cousin Miguel—he’s in that gang, the Viboras—at least he used to be. With Ernie.”

“
Are you sure Miguel didn’t kill Toby?”

That was the only scenario that made sense to me, if Walker really hadn’t done it.

“
No way. He was with me,” Donna said. “He kept me with him in the kitchen like, two hours after I was supposed to meet Toby—until I promised I wouldn’t go through with it. Later, like, after midnight, I got mad at how Miguel was being a control freak, and I got the bottle of champagne and the key out of the ice machine and went to see if Toby was still waiting for me. But… Well, you know what happened. I got in bed with your cop and poor old Toby was already dead.”

That gave me a hopeful thought. “If Miguel is that protective—do you think maybe he’ll start looking for us?”

Donna let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know. I tried to call the Hacienda earlier, when we were in the car, but the only person I could get on the phone was Santiago—you know that Guatemalan kid? He grew up in some jungle talking a weird Indian dialect. He speaks terrible Spanish and he didn’t make sense. He kept talking about how he’s burning. He thinks he’s like, totally in love with me. Hey, is there another bottle of this champagne?”

“
Your phone,” I said, thinking out loud. “Somebody was trying to call you when Walker took your phone. Do you think that might have been Miguel? Maybe he tried the hospital and now he’s worried…”

But Donna only screamed.

“
Look!”

A sliver of light appeared in the darkness. Slowly, the sliver expanded as the door creaked open. In a blaze of kitchen light, we saw Duncan Fowler, blood gushing from his nose, a massive chef’s knife gleaming at his throat.

The person wielding the knife was Santiago.

“
Santiago!”

Donna let out a torrent of Spanish as she made a drunken lurch out of the vault toward our rescuer.

Santiago
replied in his hesitant version of the language, still holding the big knife at Duncan’s throat.

I ran out into the warm kitchen and gave Santiago a grateful smile.

“
I don’t know how you found us, Santiago, but thank you.”

The boy looked confused and frightened as he looked from Marva to me and back again. He said something more to Donna.

“
Mr. Fowler, what happened?” I said as my wine-fuddled brain tried to make sense of things. “Did Santiago do that to you?”

Duncan
shook his head.

“
No. It was Walker.” His eyes were glazed and his face and hands sticky with blood.

“
Where is Walker?” Marva said.

“
Gone. But not before I got off a few rounds.” Duncan gave a surreal chuckle. “I ought to be able to shoot out the lights of my own my car. He was stealing it. Let him try to avoid the cops driving with one headlight.”

Marva grabbed a dishtowel and ran it under the kitchen tap.

“
Duncan, how many times have I told you? That man has no conscience. He’d shoot your grandmother and call it upholding the Second Amendment.” She examined Duncan’s face and turned to Donna. “Could you ask your guy to drop the cutlery?  Duncan’s not going to hurt anybody now.” She dabbed at Duncan’s face with the towel. “Camilla, why don’t you look for a working phone to call the Sheriff?””

“
No!” said Santiago, “No
policia
!”

Duncan
groaned as Santiago tightened his grip on his arm. “The land line is out. Walker cut the cable. Took my cell. He didn’t want me calling for help.”

Marva sighed. “Donna, tell Pancho Villa here that the crisis is over, okay? He can let Duncan go, for goodness’ sake. He’s not going to hurt anybody else tonight. Look at him.” Duncan whimpered as Marva tried to clean his face.

“
No!” Santiago threatened Marva with the knife.

“
What the hell is wrong with this guy?” Marva said.

Santiago
spoke to Donna in short, whispery bursts.

Her face went pale. “No, Santiago. No…”

The boy let go of Duncan, who ran to the sink to wash the blood from his hands.

But Donna looked as if she might cry as Santiago continued to brandish the knife and murmur to her. She answered him in hesitant Spanish, then turned to Duncan.

“
I hope you can fly that helicopter. He wants us to go to Mexico.”

“
Mexico? Why does he want to go to Mexico?” Marva looked up from tending to Duncan’s injury. “Is this a new trend? Reverse wetbacks?”

My elation at being rescued was fading fast.

Donna turned pale as she listened to the young man’s broken Spanish.

“
He doesn’t want to go to prison,” she said in a wavery, childish voice. “He…like, killed Toby. He thought Miguel would let him join the Viboras if he did.”

Her face regained her jaded-teenager pose for a moment as she listened to Santiago’s hesitant words.

“
He thought that since Miguel was my cousin, Miguel would, like, make me hook up with him if he was in the gang.”

She gave a sarcastic eye roll before a grunt from Santiago brought the fear back.

“
Santiago killed Toby?” I tried to fit the puzzle pieces together. That must have been the news Silas heard before he left. The boy must have confessed to Rick—then escaped somehow.

Santiago
spoke with Donna again, his tone agitated and intense. Whatever he was saying seemed to upset Donna even more.

Finally she looked at me, her voice shaky.

“
I guess Rick figured out he did it. But obviously, he didn’t want Rick to call the Sheriff, so he pulled out his knife and threatened to commit suicide if I didn’t go to Mexico with him. He tried to get on Jonathan Kahn’s show to—I don’t know—propose to me or something.”

Her eyes filled with horror as Santiago spoke some more.

“
Oh my God, then I guess I totally fucked everything up by calling the Rancho for help after Marva rescued me. Because then he knew where I was…”

She stopped and took a deep breath.

“
Look, I’m drunk and his Spanish sucks, but I think maybe he, like, set the Hacienda on fire. He says he locked them all in something he calls a hole in the wall: Rick, Alberto and Miguel. And started a fire in the kitchen…”

The Hole in the Wall room was right across from the kitchen. I sure hoped she’d understood wrong.

Santiago
grunted something at Donna and grabbed her wrist. He picked up the knife again and pointed it at Duncan.

Donna’s voice was squeaky now.

“
Come on, Duncan, we have to do what he says or he’ll kill us, too. You do know how to fly that thing, don’t you?”

Duncan
nodded slowly.

“
Walker’s going to pay for this.” He dabbed at his wound. “He just left me here alone with the mess. Just because I wanted to call the Sheriff. And we had reservations for
Tosca
at the Sydney Opera on Wednesday!”

Santiago
waved the knife as he spoke to Donna again, pulling her toward the outside door.

“
Don’t call the Sheriff or he’ll kill both of us!” Donna said. “He’s all, ‘if he can’t have me, nobody can.’ So stand where he can see you.” I heard her whimper as Santiago shoved her on the path that led to the helipad.