Rob Cornell - Ridley Brone 01 - Last Call (23 page)

“The only connection between Sam and this woman,” I said, “is Autumn. I keep coming back to that, but I don’t know what it means.”

I caught my breath, my voice hoarse from talking for so long. Sheila waited, sensing I had more to say.

“Obviously, this woman is more than meets the eye. I should have figured something was up by the way she took Doug down, and how she lost me when I tried to tail her, like she knew what she was doing.”

“How could you know?” Sheila asked.

“At the very least, she was a loose end. I should have done more to try to find her. She’s probably the one that killed Doug, though I have no idea why? I keep thinking maybe Autumn hired her to kill Doug. But then wouldn’t she have made sure she had an alibi. No point in hiring a hit ma—woman if you incriminate yourself.”

“She could have made a mistake.”

“She had a perfect alibi waiting for her. She was supposed to be at some yoga class that night. Why not go, make sure you’re around people who can vouch for you? Besides, why would Doug meet with the person hired to kill him? See? I keep getting twisted up every time I try to follow the connections. Nothing makes sense.”

“There has to be a right answer. There’s some sense to be found.”

I puffed my cheeks and blew out the air. “I’ll be damned if I see it.”

Sheila started to speak, stopped, and shook her head laughing.

“What?”

“You’ll think I’m an old windbag.”

“Tell me.”

“Whenever your mother used to get stuck working on her lyrics, she would always moan and groan to me how awful of a songwriter she was, how foolish she was to think she could do this for a living. Mind you, she kept doing this long after she’d made several millions with your father.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Anyway, after boosting her ego a little with examples of all her success, I would always tell her to go back to the beginning. It’s what I did during my short stint as a defense attorney—”

“You were a defense attorney?”

“Long before you were born, Ridley.” She patted my knee. “But reexamining the beginning seems to tell you something about what comes later. I think it works because without a beginning, there’s nothing. A beginning holds in it all that follows.”

“It sounds nice,” I said. “But I’m not sure where to find the beginning.”

“Sometimes there’s more than one. Where did this all begin for you?”

“I guess when Autumn showed up at the
High Note
.”

Sheila planted her feet on the porch and stopped the swing. “Have you ever considered why, out of all the options at her disposal, she chose you to investigate her husband?”

I opened my mouth, but Sheila cut me off.

“Before you answer, think. It’s clear your relationship was never properly resolved. Coming to you could only complicate things.”

“Maybe she regretted marrying Doug. Maybe she wanted to get back with me. Is that what you want to hear?”

“If that’s the case, if she wanted to be with you, why did she leave you in the first place?”

“She said …” I stopped. Had Autumn ever given me a straight answer? I didn’t remember one.

Reading my thoughts, Sheila said, “Perhaps you should ask her.”

My head itched and I went to scratch it, forgetting about my cut scalp until the claw of pain through my skull reminded me. Beads of light swirled across my vision.

“I’m sorry,” I said, wincing, “but what does any of this have to do with Doug’s killer?”

“Maybe nothing. All I’m saying is that you should go back to the beginning.” She looked up, hearing the tires on the dirt drive before I did. “My taxi.”

The cab crept up the drive slower than necessary, as if the driver wasn’t used to anything but paved roads. A cement approach led from the porch to the driveway, and he pulled up right to the approach and honked his horn even though it was obvious we could see him.

“Mr. Patience,” I said.

Sheila’s eyes watered as she scanned the horizon. “Some city folk can’t stand all this space.”

She took my hand and turned my palm up. Next thing I knew, I had a set of keys in my hand, and Sheila closed my fingers around them.

“Take care of the house until I find a buyer, will you?”

My stomach dropped. I realized she had kept me talking until it was too late to continue the debate over her leaving.

“You still suck,” I said.

The cabbie honked again.

Sheila went inside and retrieved her luggage, tugging along one bag on wheels behind her and carting another in her free hand. She looked at me after struggling out onto the porch.

“Aren’t you going to be a gentleman and help me with my bags?”

I stayed seated on the swing, crossed my arms. “You want to leave, you’re on your own.”

Sheila laughed, set her bags down, and came over to me. “You’ll at least say goodbye.”

I stood, and we hugged, Sheila rubbing my back. The reek of alcohol oozed from her pores, but I ignored it. Nothing I said now would change a damn thing.

“I’ll miss you,” I said.

“Even all my nagging?” She held me at arm’s length, smiled with her mouth but not her eyes. “What about you? I know you have things here yet to settle. When all that is done with, have you decided what you’ll do?”

The cabbie bleated his horn once more. I blinked the moisture out of my eyes.

“Not yet.”

“Good,” she said, then picked up her bags and waddled to the taxi.

The cabbie accelerated too quickly on the way out. His tires kicked up a dust cloud that drifted all the way to the porch. I stood in the cloud and wondered if I would ever see Sheila again.

Chapter 20

I went home, showered, put gel in my hair, dug out my only dress shirt, my only tie, and my only sport coat, and dressed in front of the full-sized mirror in the bathroom, not out of vanity, but because I felt awkward putting on anything more complicated than a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I needed to see what I was doing.

It took me three tries before I got the tie right.

An hour later, I arrived at the Rabson, confident no one had followed me. When I knocked on the door to the business suite on the twelfth floor, Lincoln answered.

He had the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, and while he wore dress slacks, his feet were bare. He looked over my own attire with furrowed brow, probably a little surprised I was better dressed than him for once.

“I’m here for Autumn,” I said. “I want to take her out.”

“Take her out? Is that really such a good idea?”

“I think she could use the break.” I glanced over his shoulder into the suite. The door fed directly into a spacious common room decked out in lots of warm colors to give it a homey feel for the weary business traveler. I saw no sign of Autumn except for a silk robe draped over one arm of a couch. “Besides, she and I need to go over a few things I missed.”

He studied my face. I wondered if he noticed the newest black and blue additions.

“I’d rather she stay close to me,” he said.

“You want your daughter off the hook? Then trust me to do what I need to do.”

Autumn entered the common room from somewhere off to the right, out of my line of sight, wearing only a pair of jeans and a bra. She brushed her wet hair while she circled the room as if looking for something, unaware of us at the open door.

“Daddy, where did you put …”

She finally spotted us, dropped the brush, and wrapped her arms across her chest. Her wide eyes took in my attire.

“Get dressed,” I said. “We’re going out.”

“Where are we going?” Autumn asked once in the car.

Apparently, her father had bought her a new wardrobe and had it delivered to the hotel. She had on a black dress with spaghetti straps, and wore her hair up, something I had never seen because her hair had been too short back in high school. She even had a pair of simple diamond earrings and a thin silver bracelet. Daddy sure took care of his daughter. His arrangements made my parents’ cabin look like a roach motel.

“Some place quiet,” I said.

I expected her to comment on my tie, but neither of us spoke until we reached Garfield Park.

A blacktopped road circled the park, with smaller roads feeding into various sections like spokes. I took the first left and pulled into an empty parking area. While it still hadn’t rained yet, the dark clouds had gathered again, probably scaring off any park-goers to more sheltered recreation. With the overcast sky, evening had turned into night.

I hadn’t worn a tie in almost twenty years. The second I put the car in park, I tugged at the knot, letting my neck breathe for a second.

Autumn sat quietly in the passenger seat, staring ahead through the windshield. She twisted her wedding ring around on her finger, but otherwise sat still.

Garfield Park stretched out before us, much of it covered with shadows in the premature night. To the left, a massive plastic and metal structure with swings, slides, and monkey bars cast its own unnatural shadow.

“So what’s with the tie?” Autumn finally asked.

“Can’t a guy spruce himself up?”

“You don’t spruce. You’ve never spruced.”

“People change. Fifteen years is plenty of time for a guy to get vain. It’s long enough for a lot of things.”

I looked at her.

She stared ahead when she spoke. “How come I have this ‘I’m about to get a lecture’ feeling?”

“No lecture’s planned.”

She turned to me, almost smiled. Even an almost was enough to make my lungs feel vacuum sealed.

“So is this a date?” she asked.

I took a second to make myself breathe, and sucked in the strong cologne I had bought at Walgreen’s on the way to the hotel. I leaned forward and pressed the play button on the CD player. The first strains of some Al Green rolled from the speakers.

After only five bars Autumn stabbed the stop button.

“No,” she said. “This isn’t right.”

“Because of Doug?”

“Because you’re wearing a tie. Ridley, you never wear a tie.”

“What has my tie got to do with anything?”

“You’re not being yourself, and it’s weird.” Autumn glared out the passenger window, arms crossed. “Why are you playing games with me?”

“I’m not.”

“This is a game. A dirty game at that. What do you want?”

Humidity thickened the air in the car, making my tie feel that much tighter around my neck. I cracked the window.

“I just wanted a quiet place to talk.”

“You honestly thought you’d loosen me up with mood music and a walk through the park?”

I surprised myself by how easily the lie came. “That’s not why I brought you here.”

“Prove it.”

“Prove it how?”

She turned to me and slipped her spaghetti straps off her shoulders. She traced a line down one side of her bare neck with her fingertips, head titled. “Kiss me right here.” Then she reached across herself and drew a tiny circle with a finger on her naked shoulder. “And here.”

I suffered the typical male physical reaction on the outside. But the triggers inside of me went off as well. I clung to the steering wheel to keep myself chaste.

“Can’t we just talk?”

“Now I know you’re lying.” She pulled her dress straps back onto her shoulders. “You son of a bitch.”

“Another person is dead,” I said, dropping the ruse. “I need to ask you some questions.”

“Then ask. Don’t treat me like a Bond girl. And just so you know, Bond fucked the girls before he pumped them for information.”

“I’m not pumping you—”

“I noticed!”

I punched the steering wheel, accidentally blowing the horn. “Your husband’s been dead less than a week. You’re still wearing your wedding ring.”

“That didn’t stop you the first time.”

“Is that why you hired me? ‘Cause you knew I’d be an easy fuck if it turned out Doug had his hand in some other girl’s panties?”

Autumn’s face turned red.

“You know who you sound like?” And I did, even before she said, “Tom.”

“Maybe Tom was right.”

Autumn threw open her door, letting in a gust of moist air. Her hair fluttered across her face. I could hear the wind rattling the leaves on the trees.

“I’m tired of you not trusting me,” she said and climbed out of the car.

“You gave me every reason not to,” I shouted before she slammed the door.

I got out as she stalked off toward the playground. I jogged up behind her, grabbed at her elbow.

Autumn jerked away, but I trudged alongside her.

“It’s been there all along,” I said. “Sitting between us in plain sight, but I’ve ignored it.”

“Don’t,” she said, pulling her hair back, only to have it fly in her face when she let go. “Leave me alone.”

“It’s going to rain.”

“I don’t care.”

“And you don’t care that someone else is dead.”

“Go away.”

She picked up speed, and I paced her. A spatter of rain fell, melting some of the gel in my hair.

We reached the gravel patch around the playground structure. Spots of the gravel turned darker as the rain wet the stones. Autumn sat on one of the swings. She gripped the chains on either side of her and dug her heels into the gravel.

I stood a few feet behind her. “Did you recognize that woman with Doug in the pictures?”