Xs, An Allie Armington Mystery (14 page)

He doesn’t say a word; instead, he places his hand
behind my neck and brings me forward until my mouth touches
his.

When we come up for air, he says, “I sound different
because I have to. And the Sandalwood had to go. But there’s one
thing that hasn’t changed, Allie, I love you.”

GREENE POURS ALL THREE of us a second cup of coffee.
It’s well past one. Going to be a long night.

He puts down his pencil and takes another sip of the
molten liquid. “And that’s all?”

I suppress a yawn. The three of us have been at this
for what seems like a decade.

“So, Bill, you’re positive about the time?”

“It was Kingsley-Smythe that switched costumes with
me. I know—knew the man. I’m positive it was his voice. I saw the
signet ring on his left hand.”

I shake my head. “But it just doesn’t add up. I saw
somebody stab the Cardinal right before my eyes. I saw him fall to
the floor.”

Then Greene says, “And I heard Kingsley-Smythe
suffered a coronary in New Jersey but they kept him alive until
they could get him to Greenwich.”

The detective points to my sheet and taps on the top
item. “You and Kingsley-Smythe arrive at seven. The place is
deserted. You go to the library, where there’s a bottle of
champagne and one glass. He pours the champagne, gives it to you
and departs. So far so good?”

“He locked me in. Said it was for my safety. I tried
to reach you, but there was no signal on the cell, so I sipped a
little more champagne and explored. That’s when I found the fake
book spines and what looked like the outline of a door. But then I
got dizzy and passed out.”

“And you have no idea how long you were
unconscious?”

“Not a clue. I don’t remember anything until he
revived me. After that, things happened pretty quickly. When I told
him about the fake bookshelves, he found the latch-spring and we
started down the passageway. That’s when I saw the man murdered.
Why can’t you believe me?”

I’m tired, cold and hungry and neither one of these
guys can add. “Look, I was huddled in that chair in the library
scared out of my mind for at least an hour after I saw the murder.
I heard the people arriving. I heard the bands start playing. On
top of all that, I had a horrible headache.”

Bill says, “And I’m positive it was around nine
thirty when I traded costumes with Kingsley-Smythe.”

I add my two cents. “What difference does all this
make? The man is dead. Isn’t there an autopsy report?”

The detective takes a sheet from one of his many
files, scans it, then hands it to me. “This is the EMS write-up a
friend of mine on the Newark force faxed me. Says here
Kingsley-Smythe suffered a massive coronary in New Jersey. Per his
friend Lawrence Templeton’s instructions, they kept him on life
support until he reached the hospital in Greenwich. He was
pronounced dead there. No formal autopsy.”

“But Larry Templeton wasn’t at The Castle. He called
Kingsley-Smythe on his cell to say he couldn’t make it.”

Bill leans forward, an earnest look on his face.
“But maybe Larry came later. Maybe you didn’t see him.”

Greene tips back in his chair to study the ceiling.
“Looks like we’ve hit another dead end. It’s almost like someone is
pulling strings.”

He suppresses a yawn then leans his elbows on the
desk. “I appreciate you two coming forward about this. You’ve both
been a great help.”

He stacks the yellow sheets and slips them in a
file, then turns to me. “Your part in this case is over, Allie.
It’s time you got back to Houston.”

I start to protest, but it’s late and I’m so
exhausted I think better of it. Maybe it is time to fold my cards.
Frankly, at this particular moment, the idea of facing Sigrid Hale
doesn’t have quite the appeal it once did.

Still, there’s the matter of the red leather address
book and Kingsley-Smythe’s grandmother’s necklace and earrings
safely stashed at the Chase Manhattan. Two aces waiting to be
played.

WHEN BILL STEPS INTO my cramped accommodation, I
edge past him into the darkness, flick on the lights and turn to
put my arms around his neck.

I feel his breath on my forehead and shiver, happy
there’s still that same powerful electricity that connects us.

The next item on my agenda is to raise my lips. I
don’t want to think about the consequences of the kiss. It just
doesn’t matter. We’re alone.

Bill seems to be much more in control of his
emotions. In fact he’s all business. “What about the jewels? If
you’re wearing paste, where are the real necklace and
earrings?”

I lean away and sigh. “In a safe place. I promise.”
“They won’t let you get away with that.”

“Then they’ll have to come after them.”

“And they will. And when they do, it won’t be
pretty. You saw those people tonight. You heard what they said.
They’re not kidding.”

“I know.”

He puts his hand on my shoulder; his next words are
barely audible. “How can I get it through that thick skull of yours
that this is serious?”

“I know it’s serious. But the necklace and earrings
are
the key. If Hale wants them, she’ll have to come and get
them.”

“But do you think she will? She’s managed to keep a
low profile this far. Don’t forget, the last messenger she sent for
those jewels is dead.”

He studies me for a few seconds, his expression in
neutral. “You need to hand them over to the proper authorities. How
soon can you get them?”

There are only centimeters between us and my knees
are noodles. “Not tonight.”

I put my arms around his neck for a second time and
lightly lean my body against his. That gets his attention and our
breaths quicken in unison until Bill breaks the silence. “When will
you be leaving?”

“Tomorrow—maybe.”

I stand there looking into those incredibly blue
eyes filled with worry, remembering how I let Bill walk out of my
life in El Paso. If I had stopped him then, maybe things would be
very different now.

“Do you need to go?”

He presses me to him and murmurs, “No.”

Our lips touch in a tender, searching kiss, then our
bodies lock.

With mouths connecting and reconnecting, we take the
few steps to my narrow bed.

He looks around the room, then at me. “I didn’t plan
on this. I wanted—” I feel his tux trousers slide south. “But it
doesn’t matter where we are, does it?”

Bill settles on the end of the bed. He turns me away
to unzip my gown, then moves me to face him as it slowly slithers
to the floor.

I kneel and peel his shirt away from his upper body.
It’s still there, the scar on his shoulder. The result of the
bullet he took protecting me. Tonight it seems like that happened a
lifetime ago on another planet.

I kiss it. “You saved my life.”

“Lucky I did, or we wouldn’t be here now.” He buries
his face between my breasts and lets out a low moan. “I’ve dreamed
about this a million times.”

Moments later we lie facing each other, our bodies
barely touching.

Neither of us says a word. We take it slow and easy.
This isn’t the time to hurry.

I DON’T REMEMBER BILL’S LEAVING, except for a long,
lingering kiss and a “Safe trip home. I’ll be in touch.”

It’s mid-morning when I awaken to replay the scenes
of the previous evening, taking time to reinforce the moments I’ll
treasure when I return to my lonely life in Houston.

Then my attention turns toward the day, and I damn
the fact that a one-way, weekday fare is going to cost a
bundle.

I grab my cell with every intention of making a
reservation on the late afternoon flight. Instead, I call Duncan’s
apartment.

When Angela answers I blurt, “Surprise. I’m flying
in tonight.”

“But you can’t. Not yet. If you come home now, it’ll
ruin everything.”

“I don’t understand. Ruin what?”

“Duncan’s asked me to marry him. The wedding’s in
Chicago the Saturday after Christmas. Mom’s already lined up the
Deer Path Inn for the rehearsal dinner. And Duncan’s given me the
most beautiful engagement ring.”

When she describes it, I have to cover the receiver
so she can’t hear me chortle. It’s the same engagement ring Duncan
once placed on my hand—the same one I saw on the ring finger of the
pale blonde fiancée who was my successor for a few short
months.

Duncan had been engaged to a woman before he met me.
Knowing him, it was probably the same ring I wore. The devil in me
takes odds on whether or not Angela, as fiancée number four, will
make it to the altar.

“Are you okay with this? I mean Duncan and me? It
all happened so fast. I mean, I never thought—never meant—it just
happened so fast.”

“Of course it’s more than okay. You and Duncan are
perfect for each other.”

“I’m so glad you feel that way. Just think, I never
would have gotten to know Duncan if you hadn’t come to New
York.”

I squelch the small surge of ill will. “Look Angela,
I had some free time. You needed help. So, I came. That’s what sibs
are for.” After a few seconds she says, “Guess who called this
morning?”

I don’t feel like playing Angela’s game of twenty
questions and I’m about to say so when she rattles on.

“Cliff Danes. Can you believe it after all this
time? And you won’t believe this in a million years.”

She catches her breath and plunges on. “Cliff bought
my townhouse. I have to confess, I didn’t pay much mind to the
buyer since the lawyers were handling all the details.”

My heart lurches sideways. “Are you telling me that
Cliff Danes bought your townhouse?”

“Who else do you know named Cliff Danes? Said he
always loved the rooms and the high ceilings.”

“Cliff called you?”

“Are you in an echo chamber or something? When I
told him I was getting married, but couldn’t find a halfway decent
dress here, he’s insisting I fly to New York. He’s lining up some
private showings downtown and thought since I would be staying with
you, you could come to the appointments with me.”

My mind is running in ten directions at once. Why
has Cliff suddenly resurfaced? And where did he get so much
money?

“How did Cliff get Duncan’s number?”

“I have no idea. Does it matter?”

“Did you tell him where I’m staying?”

“How could I? I don’t even know where you are.”

I squelch my panic. No point in alarming Angela if I
can avoid it. I take a deep breath and ask, “When are you
coming?”

“Cliff ’s calling me back when he lines up some
appointments.”

At least there’s time to get in touch with Duncan
and have him head her off. I struggle to find my most enthusiastic
tone. “Great. Call me as soon as your plans are firm. I’ll be
waiting.”

Hoping against hope that I still have Duncan’s
office number in my cell, I roll through the list on my speed-dial
and see that I do.

When he answers, I smile to myself. He’s always
prided himself on giving his clients personal attention.

We trade small talk for a moment, then I leap right
in. “Look, Duncan, this is really important. Angela must not and I
repeat
not
come to New York. Send her to Chicago. Send her
to San Francisco or Los Angeles, but you have to keep her out of
Manhattan and harm’s way.”

Duncan’s voice is filled with concern. “What
happened up there?”

“I really don’t want to talk about it. There are
more important issues now.” I take a deep breath and plunge onward.
“I just hung up from talking to Angela. She tells me you’ve set the
date.”

“That’s right. We couldn’t be happier.” He pauses.
“You’re all right with this, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am.”

He clears his throat a couple of times, but his
voice is husky. “You know, there will always be a special place in
my heart—”

“Hey, no need to go on about the past. Angela is
your future.” “There’s one thing Angie and I want you to know. As
soon as you decide what you’re going to do and where you’re going
to be, we are sending you a check for twenty thousand.”

I almost drop the phone. He wants to repay the money
Angela borrowed for her bogus face-lift.

“No, no, Duncan, that really isn’t necessary.”

“Of course it is. We’ve discussed the matter and
Angie wants you to have it and so do I. Please don’t make this
difficult for us.”

“Well, we’ll talk about that after things settle
down here. Just keep her out of the way, will you?”

He clears his throat again, but his words wrench my
heart. “Allie, please take care of yourself. You’re one in a
million.”

————

Greene answers on the second ring.

“It’s Allie.”

“I was hoping you’d be on a plane by now.”

I run through the conversation with Angela, saving
the clincher until the end. “And here’s the newsflash. Guess who
bought Angela’s townhouse? Cliff Danes. For a little over half a
million. But I know he doesn’t have that kind of money.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Just trust me. I’m telling you he doesn’t. Somebody
else made the deal. It might be worth your while to find out the
details. It’s public record.”

“I’ll take care of that, but, I want you on the next
plane out of here.”

“I’m not leaving, Greene. I know I can get
Hale.”

“Oh, yes you are. Those people told you to get out
of town, and they meant business.”

My pulse quickens. “All they said was to stay away
from The Castle. That’ll be easy to do. Look, Greene, I’m willing
to take my chances. Besides, if you consider all the angles, I’m
probably the only one who can draw Hale out in the open.”

He sighs and mutters an expletive. “I should send
you packing, but to be honest, we hit a brick wall this morning.
Seems we’ve been compromised. Someone’s obstructing, and whoever it
is has the DA’s ear. Damn. I was so sure we were inches away from
breaking this case I could taste it.”