Paradox

by Jeanne C. Stein

  She may be elderly, but her appearance is important to her. Her bag and shoes match, as do her hat and coat. Her lipstick was carefully applied, no smudges. Her attention to detail gives me hope she’ll help in finding her niece.

  I glance at David. “Aunt Genny?”

  “Cart looks full,” he answers. “Wonder where she’s taking it?”

  “Let’s find out.”

  We wait for her to move further up the block before following. She stops at a bus stop not far from the house.

  We stop, too, hesitating. “What now? Go back for the car?” I ask.

  We glance behind us to see a bus approaching. “No time,” David answers.

  There are a half dozen people waiting along with Lorraine’s aunt. We take our places at the end of the line. Neither of us know what bus fare is nowadays, and we don’t know where we’re headed, so we pay five bucks each for transfers.

  We take seats in the back, allowing us to watch where Lorraine’s aunt gets off. The bus heads west from 63rd and Brooklyn. After ten minutes, she exits at the Euclid Station and heads for the 11th and Broadway Station. We follow. These are popular routes and we blend in with the crowd. We’re on the next bus when we recognize where we’re headed. Downtown.

  So far, so good.

  She gets off at Broadway and Union. Familiar territory for us. Duke’s office is just a few blocks away. We’re perplexed when Lorraine’s aunt heads straight for his building.

  David and I hang back for a moment, not wanting to give ourselves away, but here in the bustle of downtown in early afternoon, we hurry to catch up. The security guard in Duke’s building is so busy answering questions for a pretty young woman that he doesn’t look up when Lorraine’s aunt comes through the door. She walks right past him and heads for the elevator.

  We head for the stairs. If we miscalculate, and she isn’t heading for Duke’s office, we’ll have to wait for her to return downstairs and keep following.

  We beat her to the 8th floor and stand in the stairwell until we hear the elevator ding. She’s the only one who exits. We slip into the hallway once she’s past.

  Duke’s office is in the corner at the end of the hall. She’s been here before because she doesn’t look at the doors to find his number. She stops in front of it and knocks three times.

  “It’s open.” says a voice inside.

  As soon as the door opens, David and I rush.

  She gasps when we push her and her cart inside, and slam the door behind us. She lets go of the cart and it rolls to a stop against the wall beside the door.

  Lorraine and Duke jump to their feet from their perches on opposite corners of Duke’s desk.

  “What the fuck?” Duke says. “Where did you two come from?”

  In two steps, I’m across the office and twist Lorraine Simpson’s arm behind her back. I’m about to break out the handcuffs when Duke snatches me back.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Anna?” he asks. “Stop before you break her arm.”

  I look at Duke. He doesn’t have a mark or bruise on his face.

  Lorraine’s aunt rushes at me. “Let her go,” she yells, beating at me with clenched fists.

  She barely comes to my chest, but she flails at me as though she were a giant.

  I let go of Lorraine and pin Genny’s arms at her sides. David, gun in hand, stands by the door indecisively.

  Duke approaches and pries Genny Davis out of my arms. Gently, he steers her toward a chair and lowers her into it. He turns toward us.

  “I guess I owe you an explanation.”

  “You guess?” I snap back. “We’re worried to death about you. My house was ransacked. We found blood—your blood—all over the place. We thought you died.” I jerk a thumb in Lorraine’s direction. “We thought she killed you.”

  Duke gestures to David. “Put your gun away,” he says. “I’ll explain. Lorraine hasn’t hurt me. She’s protecting me.”

  “What about the blood we found?” David asks, gun still pointed in Lorraine’s direction. “It was yours, that’s verified. Listen, Duke. If she has a hold over you, tell us. We’re here now. We can protect you.”

  “I’m not threatening, Duke,” Lorraine says.

  It’s the first time we hear her voice. A low, husky, Kathleen Turner kind of voice. It makes every head in the room swivel towards her, mine included.

  Duke puts his hand over David’s and forces the gun down. “She’s right.”

  David holsters the Glock.

  “Explain,” David says.

  “It better be good,” I add. “You trashed my place.”

  Duke winces. “Sorry. I had to make it look real. I hope we didn’t do too much damage.”

  “Really?” My voice rags with indignation as a vision of John-John’s bed flashes through my head. “You ransacked my stepson’s room.”

  “What about your blood?” David pipes in. “How did you manage to get so much of it over so many surfaces? We expected your bloodless corpse to show up in a landfill or wash up on the beach.”

  “Lorraine took care of that.” He sounds proud. “She worked as a nurse’s aide for a while and knows how to draw blood. She extracted about a pint and a half from me, and we made sure to spread it around. It’s amazing how far a little blood can go.”

  He’s too cheerful. I bite my tongue to keep from throttling that smile off his face. “If you don’t want to lose any more blood,” I say slowly and with enough menace in my tone to make him stiffen, “tell us what the fuck is going on.”

  “Can I ask you a question first?”

  “Make it quick.”

  “Did you find the money?”

  David and I exchange glances. “It’s safe,” he says.

  Duke’s shoulders relax. “I knew I could count on you.” He half turns to Lorraine. “I told you they’d come through.”

  Lorraine grins back at him. “We’re out of the woods.” She bends down to her aunt. “Did you bring what I asked?”

  Genny nods and points to her rolling cart on the floor beside the door.

  Lorraine kisses her forehead and smiles. She rummages inside one of the trash bags. When she straightens and turns toward us, we’re staring into the muzzle of a sawed off, double-barreled shotgun.

  We all react differently. David draws his weapon, but Lorraine anticipates his move and jabs the shotgun barrel into his chest, stopping him.

  Duke’s mouth falls open. "What are you doing?"

  I want to rush her. A shotgun blast would be only a painful inconvenience to me, but would betray what I am, which has to be a last resort. Aunt Genny, sits quietly, proud as she watches her niece.

  Lorraine addresses her. “Aunt Genny, take David’s gun, will you?”

  The elderly woman quickly jumps to her feet and expertly disarms David—a wonder to watch since she barely comes to his waist. When Lorraine turns the shotgun on me, she stands behind me and pats me down, finding the small .38 snubby I have clipped to my belt, and removes it. She takes David’s gun and places it in the same grocery bag from which Lorraine removed the shotgun. She hangs onto my gun.

  “Now,” Lorraine says, turning to face us. “Down to business. Where’s the eight mill?”

  Eight mill?

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” I say. “There was not eight million dollars in that PO box.”

  Lorraine looks at Duke, who sputters, “What do you mean? There was supposed to be eight million.”

  Lorraine skewers him with a dark frown. “Are you lying to me?” She pokes the gun into his rib cage. “Have you hidden some of the money? I swear I’ll shoot your friends one by one until you tell me where the rest of the money is.” She turns the gun in my direction. “I’ll start with her.”

  David steps between us. “He’s not lying,” he says. “If you shoot us, you’ll never know where to find the money, not even the two million we have.”

  “Two million?” Duke sputters again. “There’s supposed to be eight in that box.”

 
; “Maybe,” David says. “But whoever mailed the money didn’t know how many envelopes that post office box could hold.”

  Lorraine pokes Duke again. “You idiot.” She whirls on David. “Where’s the rest?”

  “Being held for pick up by the owner of the PO box.”

  “Who has to show identification,” I add. “Shooting Duke isn’t the smartest thing you could do, unless you can come up with another man to impersonate Sullivan.”

  “And the two million you have?”

  David and I remain silent. Lorraine looks at Duke. He looks away but I can see that Lorraine knows Duke knows where we stashed the money. He probably told her. He’s the one who had the safe installed in our office.

  Lorraine takes a step back and turns to her aunt. “What do you think, Aunt Genny? What should I do?”

  Without pause, she answers, “Shoot those two.” She jabs a finger at David and me. “You don’t need them. Take that one,” indicating Duke, “and let’s get to that post office.”

  I almost laugh remembering how Sister Mary Claire had the impression Lorraine’s aunt would have been a good influence. More likely, she’s where Lorraine inherited her criminal proclivities.

  Lorraine cocks her head. Outside the door, the murmur of voices. It’s a little after one and people are returning to their offices from lunch. “Can’t do it here,” she says, hefting the shotgun. “Too noisy. We need to leave them here for now. Come back tonight and finish then.” She turns to Duke. “I’m sure you must have a pair of handcuffs or two lying around the office, don’t you?”

  Duke nods, conflicting emotions playing across his face. This is not the way he expected things to unfold. He moves slowly around the desk, mindful of the shotgun Lorraine has at his chest. He opens a drawer, but before he can reach inside, she’s moved around and shoves the gun barrel against his neck.

  “You don’t have a gun in that drawer, do you?”

  His head shakes woodenly.

  She peers inside, then motions for him to proceed.

  He pulls out two pairs of handcuffs and tosses them on the desk.

  Lorraine shoves him down into the desk chair. “Aunt Genny, watch him. If he moves, shoot him.” She chuckles. “Don’t kill him, of course. We still need him for the money.”

  Genny smiles and points my .38 at his crotch.

  She’s one tough nut.

  Lorraine motions for me and David to move to the back of the office. I’m tempted to rush her, but Genny would likely shoot Duke, and I have a lot of questions for him. I don’t fight when Lorraine positions David and me on the floor behind the desk, each of us with our feet facing opposite walls, the tops of our heads almost touching. She locks our hands behind us with the cuffs. I have to stifle a smile. If she’d made us lie side by side, David would see me break free. This way, he won’t.

  When she finishes handcuffing us, she rummages in Duke’s middle drawer. She evidently finds what she’s looking for, because the next thing I hear is ripping fabric. Then she’s on her knees beside me, yanking my head back so she can force a hunk of material in my mouth before wrapping another around my head. She catches my hair in the knot she ties in the back, pulling it so tight I wince with pain.

  That brings a chuckle.

  I’ll thank her for it later.

  She moves to David. I hear him mumble, “You’ll never get away with this, bitch,” before his words cut off.

  Lorraine moves away. I can see her legs and feet as she approaches her aunt.

  “Are you ready, Auntie?”

  She must nod, because Duke is brought to his feet. Genny says, “Lorraine, honey, do we have a car?”

  “We do,” Lorraine answers. “Duke’s parked in the underground employee lot. We’ll take the stairs. No cameras.”

  Duke hasn’t said a word since Lorraine voiced her intentions. I wonder how in the hell he got involved with her, and where she fits in the Ponzi scheme. Does he know about who she’s killed?

  I can’t see what they’re doing, but I hear the cart rustle with the grocery bags. I assume Lorraine is hiding the shotgun. Lorraine says, “Don’t worry. You’ll see them again.”

  Her meaning is clear.

  I hear Duke grunt as though she’s rammed the .38 hard into his stomach.

  The door opens. Closes.

  Alone at last.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I break the handcuffs apart with no problem. A quick jerk and the chain separates. My hands are free. I pull at the gag, forgetting the hair caught in the knot, and yelp as a quarter-size chunk of hair pulls out by the roots. Fuck. Vampire hair grows very slowly. I’m not sure if hair pulled out by the roots grows back at all.

  I’m rubbing the back of my head, cursing Lorraine, forgetting the predicament we're in until a squirming David refocuses my attention. He tries to see what’s happening behind him, arching his back and grunting noises as if asking, “What the fuck?”

  I move to his side, untie his gag, and pull it off.

  “How did you get free?” he asks, eyeing the cuff bracelets encircling my wrists.

  I shrug and lie. “Must have been defective,” I say. “I gave a good yank and they broke apart.”

  “My pocket,” David says.

  I raise an eyebrow.

  “My pocket. I have a key to unlock the cuffs.”

  He rolls on his side and I slide a hand into his back pocket. Lorraine missed the key when she frisked him. Or maybe not. She could never have guessed I’d break out of a pair of steel cuffs. With them on, neither one of us could have reached the key. In a second, he’s free, too.

  “Damn, those were tight.” David rubs his wrists. “They don’t have much of a head start on us.” He lumbers to his feet. “We know where they’re headed.”

  “One problem. We left the car at good old Aunt Genny’s.” Then I remember. “Frey,” I say. “I’ll call Frey and have him come pick us up.” I’ve got the phone in my hand and his cell dialed before David finishes massaging some feeling back into his wrists.

  It’s about fifteen minutes before Frey pulls up in front of Duke’s building. David jumps in back, and I ride shotgun. I fill in Frey in as he heads for the freeway. Duke working with Lorraine surprises him.

  “Do you think she’s the one who killed Howard and the bookie?” Frey asks. “Sarah Sullivan? Duke doesn’t have a clue?”

  “Either that, or it was Aunt Genny,” David remarks dryly.

  I chuckle but shake my head. “I don’t think so. He was genuinely surprised when she turned on us—and him. We never got a chance to ask him how he got that money. Up until two days ago, he had me and David chasing it.” I shoot David a sideways glance. “I take it you never saw Lorraine before today. She wasn’t part of the LLC with you and Duke?”

  “If she was, Duke never told me. To be honest, I never asked. I had Gloria’s three mill to invest and I thought the other five was Duke’s.”

  Frey says, “You invested Gloria’s money?”

  His tone was the same as mine when David told me, disbelief tinged with astonishment.

  Color creeps up David’s neck. “My money is all tied up—real estate, hedge funds. The deal sounded too good to pass. I manage Gloria’s portfolio. She received a good chunk of change from the sale of some foreign movie rights. Cash. If this deal was for real, she’d have almost doubled her investment. It seemed a no-brainer.”

  Too good to be true. I keep quiet. I’m sure David beat himself over the head with that stick too many times to count.

  Something dawns. I swivel to face David. “Lorraine never pressed us on where we stashed the two million.”

  His eyebrows jump. “You’re right. I wonder why?”

  Shit. “She’s sure Duke knows.” I bark, “Turn around, Frey. Duke knows the combination of our office safe. I bet they’re going to stop at the office before heading to LA.”

  Frey pulls off at the next exit and swings back toward San Diego.

  I can’t believe I didn’t think of this
sooner. If we’re lucky, we may catch them at the office. A drive by confirms they are inside. Duke’s big Escalade is parked in David’s spot. We can see the top of Aunt Genny’s head in the back seat. Frey drives on, pulling over once we’re out of her sight.

  I open the Jag’s glove box. It’s long and deep. I keep a second .38 behind a false back. It’s illegal as hell but useful in times like this. It’s loaded, too, but only five rounds.

  I hand it to Frey. “You hang on to this. Keep an eye on Genny. If Lorraine and Duke are inside, and we can’t get the drop on them, we’ll need an element of surprise—you.”

  He nods.

  Frey lets us out, and David and I head for the rear of the building. We make our way along the terraces that span the back of each office. There are five in all—three have drawn blinds against the harsh reflection of sun on water. The fourth is luckily vacant as we sneak by, but our blinds are open, and there’s no place to conceal ourselves once we step onto the deck.

  I motion for David to stop and wait out of sight on the neighbor’s terrace while I sneak closer to ours to peek inside. Lorraine and Duke slide the file cabinet aside, revealing the safe. Duke argues he doesn’t know the combination. Lorraine isn’t buying. She hits Duke in the side of his head with the gun’s butt.

  Duke staggers, tripping over one of the desk chairs, and goes down hard.

  Lorraine hovers over him, gun above her head, her back to me.

  I don’t wait. I can’t be stealthy.

  I take a step back and ram the slider with my shoulder.

  The force doesn’t shatter the safety glass, but rather sends it crashing into the room in one piece.

  Lorraine whirls around.

  Duke takes the opportunity to yank her ankle, bless him.

  She falls face first onto the floor, the gun skittering loose.

  David jumps the rail between the terraces and holds Lorraine on the floor while I go to Duke.

  Blood trickles from a cut on the side of his head where Lorraine hit him. His mood is pure fury. He shakes my hand off and scrabbles to Lorraine.

  “You bitch,” he snarls.